


Universal Language

by Thornofthelily



Category: CLAMP - Works, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Character Study, Eventually Mutual Pining, Flashbacks, Flirting, Isolation, Language Barrier, Loneliness, M/M, Minor Injuries, Miscommunication, Nonverbal Communication, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Previous Fai/Ashura, Slow Burn, Yama Country, as I figure out new ways to torture these poor boys, minor blood, mixture of anime and manga canon, this fic acknowledges the existence of sex but doesn't get explicit, wound care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornofthelily/pseuds/Thornofthelily
Summary: A slow burn study of what happens to Fai and Kurogane after arriving in Yama Country. How they learn to communicate, how Fai joins Kurogane as a general in Yasha's army, the feelings Kurogane begins to develop as Fai relies more and more on him, and how Fai deals with a unique feeling of loneliness.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite & Kurogane, Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane, Kurogane - Relationship
Comments: 27
Kudos: 96





	1. A Whole New World

**Author's Note:**

> I have always wanted to write this fic, and roughly ten years after having the idea for it, I'm sitting down and doing it. Is it the most original work? Maybe not, but dammit I have always wanted to know every little bit of what happened in Yama country and how that impacted Kurogane and Fai's relationship, so that's what this is gonna be.

Speeding through the winding tunnel, down the rabbit hole, beyond the looking glass, and all other metaphors for otherworldly travel. When Fai lands beside Kurogane in the new world, and when his stomach stops flopping about, he immediately realizes something is _wrong._ Several somethings, in fact.

The first and most upsetting: the thrum of magic that has always pulsed behind his eyes is now just… _gone._ Panic grips his throat, blocking out all other sensations, freezing him in place. Even though he hasn’t used it since he teleported to the Dimension Witch, it has remained with him, the vibrant swirling potential energy that would invariably lead King Ashura straight to him, even across dimensions, were he ever to use it. A piercing pain lances through his skull at that moment. If Kurogane hadn’t grabbed his arm, he might have collapsed. A memory… a curse… but no compulsion. No urge to kill. The panic subsides. _Not gone, then. Just buried._

The second and third things wrong with this world, as Fai dazedly looks around them while the pain in his skull recedes, make themselves obvious:

  1. Sakura, Syaoran, and Mokona are nowhere in sight, and
  2. They are surrounded by black-eyed armed guards astride reptilian quadrupedal mounts, weapons pointed right at them.



The fourth and final sign of trouble appears when the guards begin shouting orders at them. The words are meaningless, gibberish. Fai leans a little closer to Kurogane, glancing at him with concern. In the last country, they had been separated from the two kids and Mokona, but at least they could still communicate. Now, however…

Fai jumps when Kurogane answers the guards in that bubbling foreign tongue he had heard only briefly long ago, in the first world of their journey. _Could it be, Kuro-tan can actually understand them?_ Studying his face, he realizes with a shock that Kurogane’s eyes, normally a deep crimson, have also turned black.

Mind racing, Fai makes some deductions as the guards answer Kurogane. _All these guards have black eyes, and Kuro-pu does too. And I can’t feel my magic, which comes from the blue of my eyes. It must be like Hanshin country, then. When we entered that world, we each received a Kadan. Perhaps in this world, everyone’s eyes turn black._

Kurogane isn’t the best at lying or deception, but whatever he tells the guards, they relax by a hair, their postures softening almost imperceptibly. _Fortunate,_ Fai thinks, then quickly corrects himself, remembering Yuuko. _No, not fortune. Not coincidence. Hitsuzen._

Black eyes then train on him, and through the babble, one word rings out clear: _Ashura._ Fai manages to retain his pleasant, smiling mask, but Kurogane certainly feels how still he goes. The taller man is just about the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. If Ashura’s name keeps popping up, Fai will have to try harder to hide his feelings. Kurogane, damn him, already has seen what that name can do to him. Already seen more than Fai was willing to show...

Kurogane pulls Fai in closer and barks something back to the wary soldiers, the hand on his bicep tightening. _Wah, Kuro-cutey is strong._ Of course, he has known that from the first moment they met. If only he could tease him about it, but even Fai acknowledges this may not be the time. Finally, cautiously, the guards drop their weapons fully, gesturing them to follow. Kurogane glances to Fai and tilts his head, so Fai trusts that they are welcome in this place, at least for now.

* * *

The accents are a little unusual, thicker and stranger than what they had in Hanshin, but Kurogane understands them. It’s odd. He’d never had to struggle to comprehend anyone during this journey.

Kurogane and Fai had landed in the middle of the night, the moon slowly vanishing over the edge of the sky and a blush of dawn cresting over the horizon, but overhead was opaque nothingness. Right away, they were staring down the point of several spears. Kurogane could have fought them off, but without the kid and the princess around, he knew they would need answers, support, in order the find them. Killing the first people they encountered wouldn’t win them any favors. Besides, Princess Tomoyo had seen to his reckless killing instincts.

They had accused them of being spies for someone called Ashura. He remembered that name from Shara. So, taking a gamble, he said he had come to serve Yasha. Like that witch said, no such thing as coincidence. Seems reasonable to assume that, like Shara, there would be a Yasha paired opposite an Ashura. His lie pacified them for a moment, but then they asked about Fai. The wizard, uncharacteristically, did not answer. Kurogane knew the fool well enough by now; he was disoriented, confused. And, for an instant after they landed, _afraid._ He told the soldiers that Fai was his companion, and that was that. They were cautious, but said they would let King Yasha decide, and began marching them towards their castle.

Ashura… back in Shara, just hearing the name made Fai turn pale as a ghost. And when he heard it again after arriving, he still reacted to it. Even now, as they’re walking to Yasha Castle, Fai walks beside him, smiling that blissful, deceptive smile Kurogane has come to hate. It means he’s suffering and doesn’t want anyone to know.

“That name... what does it mean to you?” He mutters to Fai, trying not to let the guards overhear. Fai tilts his head towards him, his expression pleasant but confused. “In Shara, too, you...”

Fai’s face is a wooden mask. He speaks, but Kurogane can’t understand a word. Then it hits him: He may be able to passably understand the native language of this place... but Fai can’t. The white pork bun is out of range. _The princess and the kid are even further away than they were before._

He glowers at Fai, even though this isn’t his fault. So. Fai can’t seem to understand anything that’s happening around them. That will make this... difficult.

They’re led through mountainous terrain just as the sun begins to rise, and the journey quickly becomes agonizingly silent. After maybe an hour of walking, they begin to climb a steep path towards an impressive castle, surprisingly not too different from Shirasagi Castle, where he served Princess Tomoyo.

More guards intercept their party, and the words exchanged are short and coded. Kurogane can’t help but size them up. Each of them look battle-hardened, scarred and rough, carrying themselves with the confidence and wariness earned in war. And each of them have solid black eyes. He glances back at Fai. The wizard does, too. And so does he, presumably. Kurogane is relieved his gamble worked and that they don’t have to fight. It might be tough even for him to take out this many men, especially with Tomoyo’s curse.

They are handed off to the new set of guards. These ones keep their weapons pointed at them the whole time as they’re led through the castle towards the central room where Yasha awaits them. The place reminds him vaguely of the Jinja in Shara. Ashura... Yasha... now this. What was the connection between these worlds? Why had the pork bun teleported them so suddenly that they were separated even more than before?

The central room (for it wasn’t exactly a _throne_ room) resembles a huge dojo. An intricate moon emblem shines prominently on the paper screen behind a seated man who is the spitting image of the Jinja’s Yasha statue. Long black hair and pointed ears, he sits cross-legged on the floor with a sword resting on his shoulder. The eye that he had seen crying blood in statue form has a wicked scar on the living incarnation.

The head of the guard retinue steps forward, taking a knee. “King Yasha,” he speaks reverently, “these outsiders were lurking about the outlying fields, discovered by a scout patrol after our return from the Moon Castle. We feared they may be spies sent by King Ashura.”

Kurogane sideeyes Fai, but the wizard has regained his composure, smiling demurely, unflinching. Yasha similarly is unmoved. The guard’s voice wavers.

“But... they have the look of the Yasha clan,” he continues, “and they say they wish to serve you. What should be done with them, my lord?” Yasha’s eyes roll between them, back and forth, expressing unchanging. Kurogane just manages to catch a tremble in the guard’s hand. “My lord... I think it would be best, if we can prove their loyalty, to bring them with us to the Moon Castle. Ashura’s last counterattack lost us several skilled soldiers, and these men look capable.” Still, silence. The guard lowers his head, trying to hide an expression of pain. “If it pleases my lord, then I shall act accordingly.” Yasha tilts his head slightly forward, and the guard sighs with relief.

“Thank you, King Yasha.” Turning towards Kurogane and Fai, the man regains his composure, once more the confident, self-assured vassal.

Kurogane knows better. He’s seen it in the faces of Tomoyo’s weaker servants. _Doubt._

“I will show you to your quarters, but don’t even think of trying anything. We will have you under constant guard until your loyalties can be ascertained. Then, we will see how well you can fight for us. Come.” He turns sharply on his heel and marches out. Kurogane starts to follow, making sure to grab the wizard by the arm just in case.

They walk in silence a few minutes before the guard speaks. “What are your names?”

“Kurogane,” he answers. “And this one is Fai.”

The guard shoots Fai a suspicious glance, which the wizard answers with that deceptive smile of his. “Can’t he speak for himself?”

“He’s a man of few words,” Kurogane answers simply.

The guard stops, turning to face them and crossing his arms. “How can I trust a man who won’t even give me his own name?” He says, turning to the mage with a glower.

Fai senses the shift of energy in the passageway. He stops, his expression faltering, eyes shifting from Kurogane to the guard.

“Tell me,” the man snaps. “What is it that you do?”

Kurogane stiffens, resisting the urge to reach for Sohi. If he can’t come up with something...

But Fai bows extravagantly, arms sweeping wide, before he stands up straight and shocks Kurogane by _singing._ There are no words, or at least, nothing that sounds like words to him, but his voice is surprisingly clear and vibrant. His eyes close as he sways between the notes, vocal cords thrumming like a plucked shamisen string. One hand rests delicate fingertips just above his heart, and he shifts his weight between his feet as he dances between notes. It doesn’t sound too bad. The song lasts less than a minute, and the guard scoffs and rolls his eyes. He glances at Kurogane dismissively. “So, you’re the guard of some traveling minstrel, then? That still doesn’t explain what you were doing out there.” He shakes his head. “No matter. If you can fight, you will serve King Yasha. And if not... then you will die in the next battle.”

He continues down the hall, and Kurogane glares at his back. It doesn’t sound like a direct threat, but he doesn’t know what to make of all this talk. Moon Castle... Soldiers... What was happening in this world? Still, he thinks with a devious smile, if he gets a chance to fight, that’s fine with him.

The guard stops in front of a sliding panel door. “These will be your quarters, for now. If we catch you doing anything suspicious, including wandering the castle without an escort, your new accommodations will be the dungeon. Is that clear?” Kurogane nods and Fai, following his lead, nods as well. “If you need anything,” he adds, his tone growing a modicum more polite, “my name is Manas. Simply ask the guards and they will fetch me. When the sun sets, you-” he points to Kurogane, “will be escorted to the courtyard and fitted for battle. We will take you with us to the Moon Castle at moonrise.”

With a brief bow that is more formality than respect, Manas leaves them to their quarters.

Once alone, Fai makes that irritating noise like a whistle, smirking at Kurogane. “You really can’t understand me, can you?” he asks. Fai shrugs, walking inside the room. It’s a simple square room with two futons already spread out, and a small open window too small to crawl through. Not that they would want to, with a significant drop from the window to the ground below. Kurogane hadn’t even realized they had climbed any height. This castle is clearly well-designed. Somehow, as Manas guided them from Yasha’s chambers to their own, he had gotten lost, and he knows he wouldn't be able to navigate his way back, especially not outside. A layout designed to confuse intruders.

Fai stands near the window and stares at the afternoon sky, expression, as always, unreadable.

“What was with that song?” He asks, knowing Fai can’t answer. Although, knowing this damn mage, he wouldn’t answer even if he could understand. “I don’t know which is better,” he muses, glaring at Fai’s back. “The you who lies with every word he speaks, or the you who doesn’t speak at all.


	2. First Blood

The Fai who cannot speak is certainly more irritating than the lying one, Kurogane decides quickly. Unable to annoy the ninja with his little nicknames and taunts, the wizard practices his infuriating fake whistle until Kurogane is ready to throttle him. Which isn’t very long at all.

“I know we can’t understand each other, but do you really have to do that now?”

Fai laughs and quips something back, his native language a clipped, staccato thing, with lots of trilled _rs._ As expected, Kurogane doesn’t understand a word, until Fai’s hooded eyelids lower and he catches a single “ _Kuro-la._ ” It pricks his ears, and he goes to shout at him for using another infantile nickname, but realization strikes him faster than his rage can be expressed.

Fai heard and understood Ashura’s name. Kurogane heard his own name… or rather, Fai’s infuriating nickname. The suffix was different than one he’d used before, but the _Kuro_ was unmistakable. Which means… names are unchanged. Names go untranslated, or maybe just cannot be translated. Regardless, if they can least say names...

“Fai?” Kurogane tries hesitantly.

The mage’s grin fills his whole face and he claps, adding an obnoxious “ _weet-woo”_ at the end. Well. Names can be communicated. How helpful is that going to be?

Fai catches Kurogane’s attention again and mimes for a piece of paper, with one palm up and the opposite hand miming for writing. Kurogane searches the room, even though the wizard could damn well find his own paper, but he’s unsuccessful. Remembering Manas’s word, Kurogane opens the sliding door and sees a guard posted right outside in the hallway, who stands up straighter at Kurogane’s sudden appearance. The guard looks young, long brown hair pulled in a ponytail and body the unnatural square suggesting armor underneath the delicate robes, sporting a soft, delicate sort of face. Kurogane can’t tell if this person is male or female or neither.

“What is it?” They bark, but their hand jumps a little closer to their weapon. Kurogane feels a little insulted. Manas had sent an amateur to watch over them.

“Manas told us to tell you if we need anything. Can you bring us paper and writing utensils?”

The guard frowns. “While you are allowed to stay in the guest wing, we cannot allow any letters to be sent from-”

“Did I say we were writing letters?” Kurogane growls. “We just need some paper and ink.”

“What for?”

“For our journals,” he says with an eyeroll. He meant it sarcastically, but maybe the sarcasm doesn’t survive in his accent, because the guard orders them not to go anywhere as they take off. _Well, they’re certainly being replaced for that,_ Kurogane snickers. Leaving them all alone, truly a rookie move.

Back in the room, Kurogane just sits against the wall with Sohi draped over his lap. Another rookie mistake Yasha’s soldiers have made. Before his curse, Kurogane could have taken out most of the fighters in this castle single-handedly if he needed to. Leaving him with a weapon is foolish.

Fai stares at him a moment, then resumes his infuriating whistle practice. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long before there’s a gentle knocking at the door, and the guard slides the door open. Not only do they have a tray with a large stack of papers, an ink well, and a quill, but also a separate tray of food. Two servings of some type of grilled fish, rice, steamed vegetables, and soup. Not too different from what he would have in Nihon.

“Thank you,” he tells the guard gruffly. They are about to close the door but Kurogane interrupts. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Esha,” they answer cautiously.

“Thank you for bringing us food and the paper, Esha. Next time, you might want to get a second guard here when you go off on an errand. Doesn’t look good to leave us alone.”

Esha stiffens. “Th-thank you,” they mumble, cheeks slightly pink. Kurogane ages them down five years from his original estimate.

Kurogane closes the door, pushing a tray of food and the papers towards the wizard. Fai wrinkles his nose at the fish, plucking it up by the tail and transferring it delicately to Kurogane’s tray as he takes a piece of paper, wets the quill, and begins to sketch something. Kurogane watches him while he eats.

The first thing the wizard draws is a distinctive tiger face, one they saw everywhere in the first world they visited. “Hanshin?” Kurogane asks.

Fai smiles and nods, then draws something just below that. Now Kurogane studies him intensely, curious what the mage is plotting. This drawing is a five-pointed flower, closely resembling the token they carried around in the virtual world from Edonis. “Ôto?”

Another enthusiastic nod. Then he furiously scratches out a rough, simple drawing that closely resembles this very castle, as well as a single black eye. Ah. A good point. If names aren’t translated, then Kurogane should at least be able to identify the name of this world. He hadn't thought to ask until now.

Kurogane finishes the mouthful of rice before he calls out past the door. “Esha,” he begins, voice a little unsure. “I know this… may sound like an odd question, but what is the name of this country?”

A pause, then Esha slides the door open, suspicious black eyes meeting Kurogane. “You said you are loyal to King Yasha, and you don’t even know the name of the land in which you reside?”

Kurogane quickly and clumsily weaves another falsehood, based on Fai’s strange behavior earlier in the day. “That guy over there is... a traveling musician. I’m his bodyguard. We… got lost, separated from the rest of our group. We weren’t sure where we ended up. But our loyalties have always been with King Yasha.” The words sting in his mouth. _Forgive me, Princess Tomoyo._

Esha looks unconvinced, but still says, “Yama. You’re in the country of Yama.”

“Thank you, Esha.” After a pause, he asks one more question. “What can you tell me about the Moon Castle?”

Whatever progress he had made with the young solider evaporates, and Kurogane knows he crossed a line. Esha regain their composure and attempts to playact as the tough, serious guard they clearly wish to be. “I’m not at liberty to say. We will learn your loyalties tonight, when you travel to the Castle with our troops.”

Esha closes the door on him, and Kurogane turns to face a curious Fai. “Yama,” he says slowly, pointing to his final drawing. “This world is called Yama.”

* * *

Another world that uses these sticks as eating utensils, Fai laments with a sigh. Kurogane plucks large, fluffy lumps of rice with them and shovels them into his mouth with ease, whereas Fai can’t manage a single grain. He catches the ninja smirking at him with every attempt, and Fai would be tempted to play into it for laughs except he _is_ actually quite hungry. Without a spoon, he’s not even sure how he should attempt the soup, but watching Kurogane suggests he should drink it straight from the bowl.

Lifting the simple wooden bowl to his lips, he tilts the mixture into his mouth, relieved at the warm, filling, slightly too salty broth filling his empty stomach. After he finishes that, he stares at the remainder in despair. The vegetables would be easy enough to eat with his hands, although he’d prefer not to, and the fish was out of the question. This country at least cooked the fish, as opposed to previous worlds where they served it raw ( _shudder_ ), but his skin still crawls when he considers eating it. (And how, _how_ did Kuro-chi manage to pull bits of skin and meat using just those little sticks?! And not even a knife? Baffling!) But the rice…

Really, he could just eat with his hands. They had visited places that had no serving utensils for meals, so he’s not unaccustomed to it. But Fai didn’t want to face the indignity of it, not with Kurogane’s eyes sparkling with mischief, clearly getting a great deal of amusement from Fai’s plight. He momentarily considers begging Kurogane to feed him. An enticing thought, certainly but… no. No. Fai pushes the feeling down, as he always has to push down such feelings. _Don’t get attached,_ he reminds himself, grim anxiety churning his stomach and starting to spoil his appetite. _Don’t forget what you are here for, and what **he** is here for. _

Fai gingerly picks up a vegetable that in his country he would have called a _carrot_ but certainly is not called that here, lifting it to his mouth. Deft wooden spears snatch the morsel from between his fingers and Fai bites down on air. Kurogane had moved closer to him while he was lost in thought, so he covers his face with his smiling mask. He knew it would irritate the ninja, and right now, his memories were putting him in an irritating mood.

But instead of a scowl (or at least, not a worsening scowl), Kurogane holds the bite of carrot out to him. Fai’s chest constricts. Wait. He’s not… is he?

Feeling like this could be a trick, Fai leans forward and carefully takes the vegetable between his lips and chews. It’s good. It does not taste like a carrot. Kurogane’s eyes don’t leave his face, even as he picks up another bite and holds it out to him. Fai’s breathing hitches slightly, and he curses himself as Kurogane’s eyes wander down his throat, catching the movement. What… what is he thinking?

Fai eats the rest of his meal this way, Kurogane showing an uncharacteristic patience in helping him eat his food. Fai pouts, feeling childish. He must practice eating with these sticks. He can’t rely on Kurogane for nourishment forever.

* * *

The day passes slowly. Fai is unsure if they are prisoners here, or guests, but anytime he gets close to the door, Kurogane stops him from leaving. _Lonely?_ He thinks, but his glowering resting face shows nothing. Was the figure standing outside a guard, stopping them from leaving, or a servant to wait on them? Fai had lived nearly a hundred years in Ruval Castle with King Ashura, living as nigh nobility, but even he could not comfortably assess the truth behind their situation.

As the sun finally begins to set, Fai settles himself between the pad and comforter of the futon on the floor. Not the most comfortable place he’d slept recently, but not the worst. Kurogane, as usual, doesn’t lie down to sleep, but leans against the wall, hand on his sword.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim the wizard. He has always slept like Death. Ashura used to tell him so. Face down, motionless, breathing quiet and calm, he used to wake many times to the feel of Ashura’s fingers tracing the tattoo on his back, checking the rise and fall of his breathing.

_“How do you sleep like that?” His king purrs, lying next to him in the bed they often shared. Fai stretches so he can move closer to Ashura, resting his head on the other’s thigh. Ashura’s long, cool fingers spider up his spine, over his shoulder, and brushes a lock of hair away from his closed eyes._

_His relationship with Ashura came about naturally, easily. He had always looked up to him after Ashura rescued him from Valeria, and when he became an adult, that admiration turned to love. He and Ashura often stayed together like this. There was never any confession of love, for there was no need. Fai knew of his feelings. He was sure of it._

_“In that pit,” Fai answers easily, able to speak of his abominable prison only to Ashura, only one of two people alive who saw the conditions in which he was forced to live. “you know that time moves differently. My hunger and thirst grew agonizingly slow, with no reprieve. My bodily needs required minimal attention. But sleep… sleep never came. I could climb and climb and climb that tower, my fingers cracked and broken, exhausted, but I could not sleep.”_

_“It would have been a reprieve,” Ashura says, words full of sympathetic sorrow. As always, providing such wisdom, such comfort. “Time flows slowly there. To sleep would, by your perception, accelerate that time. Allow you to rest without feeling the decreased flow of time. So no, you wouldn’t have been able to sleep that whole time, would you?”_

_Fai tips his head into Ashura’s fingers, now stroking soothingly through his blond hair. “So now, when I get tired, I surrender to sleep immediately,” he whispers, though with every touch from Ashura, the desire for sleep recedes, replaced by something else. “It’s the only peace I find some nights. Death-like sleep.”_

The dream, the memory, unsettles Fai’s slumber, ironically enough. Dreaming of King Ashura… is it the result of this Yama country, where another Ashura may dwell? Or… is his king beginning to stir from his own magical slumber, reaching out through dreams?

Caught up in the memory, Fai does not realize at first that Kurogane is not in the room with him. The room is dark, and he still feels half-blind without his magic sense. Kurogane had taught Syaoran how to sense energies in his own way, but without his magic, Fai had been having trouble with the same. When he finally adjusts to the dim moonlight illuminating their room to find himself alone, a strange itching panic digs into his skull.

He hadn’t slept alone for… how many months had they been traveling together? Even in Ceres, he rarely slept alone. It brought back painful, agonizing memories of his prison, his isolation, screaming for his brother only to be answered by harsh whistling winds…

No Mokona snuggling up to his chin, no gentle swell of magic from the princess or the answering void that was the mask of Syaoran… and no quiet, still determination from his ninja.

Had something happened? Kurogane never split off from their group. But now their group is just two. And Fai is alone.

Fai slips the door open, finding their guard, or handler, or whoever they are, gone. The castle is deathly still, and Fai tries to keep calm. He fears navigating the unknown castle alone, especially since Kurogane was clearly so insistent on keeping him in the room all day, but he can’t return to sleep without finding out what happened to his companion. His thoughts are a messy jumble as he keeps one hand against the wall and navigates down the halls, trying to draw a mental map.

Maybe someone took Kurogane in his sleep? No, he would have awoken and fought hard enough to wake even a deep sleeper like Fai. Perhaps Kurogane is investigating the castle on his own? He likes to think he would have taken Fai, but… without being able to speak to each other, his options might have been limited.

No explanation is plausible for both Kurogane’s absence and the apparent lack of any other palace residents. It’s as though they all vanished. Fai’s hands begin to shake as he peeks into different rooms, strains his ears for any sound, but to no avail. And without his magic, he can’t sense any auras, any life force, any magical trickery that may be about. He’s not even sure if this country has magic. The panic begins to well up in his throat as he moves with less quiet, more desperation, throwing open doors, backtracking down hallways he knows he’s visited, running in circles looking for _any_ sign-

Fai finds his way outside, the only place he feels like he has not checked. The moon hangs like an oppressive eye overhead, blood-red and glaring from the pitch black sclera of sky. The effect is heightened by a darkened pupil poised at the center of the astral body, and on closer inspection, Fai sees it is some crystalline structure floating in the air, clearly huge but seeming small due to the great distance. How had he not noticed that before? He hadn’t thought to look up while they walked to the castle, and the window in their room only shows a small square of the horizon.

Fai found himself instinctively reaching for that well of power within him and found nothing, sending him scrambling, tumbling down the void of his own head. _Alone. Darkness. No power. No magic. The pit. The tower. Fai. Fai. Fai. **FAI.**_

A great light shines in the clearing a few hundred yards before him, and Fai covers his mouth to swallow the cloying scream of terror from the memories he is unable to suppress.

The light fades, and Fai sees hundreds of armed soldiers- bloodied, wounded, armed, some already dragging the limp bodies of others up towards the castle. A frantic look among them reveals King Yasha astride his regal mount, face impassive as before, along with a grim-looking Manas and finally… Kurogane, broken shaft of an arrow sticking out from his shoulder.

Manas is supporting Kurogane on his unwounded side and has already begun leading him up the path when he sees Fai. Manas looks annoyed and snaps something at Kurogane, but Fai isn’t even pretending to understand. He rushes up to Kurogane, eyes fixed to the wound. His hands hover over the broken wood, again desperately wishing for his magic, for _any_ magic that could heal, a skill he never managed to learn. Kurogane grunts at Fai and brushes his hand aside, shooting him a heated look Fai can’t distinguish between rage and annoyance.

The buzz of the soldiers’ native tongue fades in the background as Fai anxiously follows Kurogane back to the castle, his hands fitfully hovering near Kurogane. Never touching. But always wanting to.


	3. The Moon and Love

Fai hovers around Kurogane like an irritating gnat as Manas helps walk him back up the cliff into the castle. He damn well hopes this proves his worth.

He wouldn’t have been in this mess if Manas hadn’t tricked him. He’d summoned him from their room in the middle of the night to come to the Moon Castle and prove his loyalty. Led outside, Kurogane stood in a large clearing, surrounded by armed and armored warriors. He smirked, readying Sohi. He thought he knew what he was in for, so when he was blinded by a sudden burst of light, he drew his blade, still able to sense the soldiers around him, ready to strike. When he regained his vision, however, and saw they were standing on a completely different battlefield, he froze.

Manas saw the hesitation and confusion in his eyes, saw how one of Ashura’s damn archers immediately targeted the soldier standing in a ring alone, sword drawn, armorless. Saw Kurogane’s eyes flare with anger and how viciously he fought even when wounded. Better damn well have been enough to prove himself, but Kurogane still grumbled in irritation that he’d been wounded. Certainly not the worst injury he’d ever received, but he wouldn’t have been hit at all if Manas had just _told_ him who he was expected to fight.

Now that he’s shouldering Kurogane’s weight as he walks him up the steep hill, even as Fai flits about, Kurogane expects a little more honesty around here. Manas leads him through a few halls into a large infirmary, with dozens of beds already filled with mild to critical injuries. Kurogane catches the anxious wringing of the wizard’s hands, twitching towards him but never making contact.

“You,” he growls, and even though Fai doesn’t understand the words, he knows the tone. Black eyes meet newly-black eyes. “You don’t happen to know any magic to fix this hole in my shoulder, do ya?” Fai’s expression remains blank, and Manas raises an eyebrow. When he doesn’t receive an answer, as expected, he shoves Fai back a few steps. “Then back off.” He points at the door they just came through for emphasis. “ _Go._ ”

A flash of anger in his eyes, then he smooths it away, turning away with a sweep of the long sleeves of his yukata-like gown from Shara and disappearing. Kurogane growls, and in his annoyance, starts working the shaft of the arrow out of his body. Manas seizes his hands in a panic. “You fool!” He spits. “Wait for the healer! If you remove it-”

“I’ll bleed more, but this area doesn’t have any major vessels. If I leave it much longer, the wound will clot closed around the arrow and it’ll be a bastard to remove. Might as well get it over with now.” Kurogane works a folded scrap of his fabric into his mouth and grits against it as he slowly twists and pulls the arrow free of his body. Manas stares at him with a mix of shock and respect.

“You’re no mere minstrel’s bodyguard, that’s for sure,” he murmurs.

Kurogane smirks at that, pressing his hand against the newly-opened wound to stem the blood. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Got any gauze around here?”

Manas blinks, then quickly sets off towards some shelves between two beds, both both occupants still and quiet, but Kurogane could sense, still alive. He tosses him the roll he finds and Kurogane, after stripping off the bloodied shoulder of his own yukata, bandages himself up. Manas sits at the foot of the bed and stares at him with an inquisitive eye.

“You’re a real soldier, aren’t you?”

Kurogane scowls. “What gave you the impression otherwise?”

Manas tucks a stray graying lock behind his ear. As opposed to many of the other young soldiers, Manas keeps his hair trim and short. “You were alone deep in the mountains with no supplies, no armor, no mount, dressed in these ridiculous spring garments – winter will be here shortly, you realize that, right? – on the night of a full moon, right after our battle. It’s preposterous to think you were anything but spies. But you’ve clearly never seen the Moon Castle field before, and I don’t think Ashura would keep a soldier of you skill off the field. Not sure _how_ Ashura would get someone to Yama anyway, but we had to be sure.”

“Satisfied?” Kurogane bites out as he secures the wrapping over his wound. His range of motion will be effected until it heals, but he doesn’t sense any serious damage.

“Almost,” Manas huffs. He shoots him a meaningful look. “Join our forces, Kurogane-san. Officially.”

Kurogane raises an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

Manas smirks. “Because otherwise we’ll have to send you back down to the village at the base of the mountain, and when you realize how bored you are with no one to fight down there, you’ll have to compete in the festival just to get back up here.”

_Festival?_ _Meh, a_ _nother time,_ he decides, his heart already excited at the prospect of another battle. “So, I’m in your army now, just like that?”

“In truth, we’re short on soldiers. Our war has been going on generations, vying for control of the Moon Castle so our Yasha clan can have a wish granted. Ashura wants the same thing, so we fight, every full moon, every month, every year. Our ranks grow thin, and we’ve been recruiting from further and further into Yama. I’ve seen how you fight, Kurogane-san. With you by our side, I believe we can spare twenty new recruits.”

Kurogane rolls his injured shoulder, working through the sharp ache. “Give me some decent armor and a better warning, I’ll replace a hundred green recruits.”

* * *

  
Kurogane spends the evening in the infirmary, more at Manas’s insistence than his own need. The healer has a fit over him when she realizes he’d dressed his own wound, and she fusses about sloppy field dressings and basic wound care. None too gently, she exposes his wound to the stinging air , aggressively swipes it clean with a burning rag, then shoves a bit of cloth in the hole before wrapping him back up with a huff. As she works, Kurogane has Manas explain his new duties as a rank-and-file soldier. King Yasha at the head, of course, although Manas’s eyes hollow when discussing his lord. Kurogane files that away for _another time_ as well. Just under Yasha is Manas himself, then he names a few dozen field commanders, captains, and notable soldiers. For three days during the full moon, companies rotate out to keep a full regiment ready for battle, but afterwards, the whole castle is vulnerable while everyone rests recovers. But t hat’s ne ver been a concern, Manas hand-waves Kurogane’s complaint . No member of the Ashura clan has ever been spotted in Yama. No threats exist on this soil.

After the recuperation period, the soldiers rearmor, resupply, and fill the ranks with any gaps left by death or injury by recruiting through the festival. The Moon festival, held three days during the new moon, encourages any skilled warrior to compete for the honor to join King Yasha’s army and seize control of the Moon Castle for Yama. Manas and King Yasha judge the contestants personally.

“I would be honored if you joined us for the next festival, Kurogane-san,” Manas invites politely.

“Me? You thought I was a spy a few hours ago, and now you want a new recruit to judge worthiness of new soldiers?”

Manas smirks. “New recruit? Hardly. You’ll be among the king’s best generals after three moons, tops. With only three days of combat at a time, it takes many years before any of our guard gain a real level of skill. I’m impressed. Where’d you learn to fight so well, if not at the Moon Castle?”

Kurogane grunts, blocking away, as always, memories of Nihon and Suwa. “I have my own reasons for my skills,” he answers cryptically.

Manas sighs. “Fair enough. What about that companion of yours? What is his story?”

Kurogane’s eyebrows knit together in annoyance. “Wish I knew,” he growls.

* * *

Fai can’t get back to sleep. Kurogane never returns to their room, and he can’t sleep.

How did he get injured? Clearly, Yasha’s men had been in a battle, but with whom? He seemed awfully familiar with Manas already, so he doubted he fought against Yasha’s own men. Then where… where could he have been? The thought that Kurogane could have died makes his whole body convulse with terror. Then he’d truly be alone.

No, he assures himself. Kurogane is strong. Impressively strong. Strong enough that even Fai would need to watch himself. After all… after all…

He worries for Sakura and Syaoran. Where they were, how they were doing. He shouldn’t, knowing they aren’t real, but… but Syaoran’s shy smile when Sakura isn’t looking still feels real. The princess’s eyes becoming clearer and sharper with every feather is real. It is so easy to lose himself in this friendly atmosphere, especially when Kurogane often offers such fun distractions. But if this is how he reacts to Kurogane’s little wound, how would he ever do what’s needed of him when the time comes?

He’s not sure why they were separated, where the children and Mokona were, and when, if ever, they’d be reunited. He just knows he has to get back to Sakura, back to Mokona, and follow his ancient orders. He has an impossible wish he needs granting, too.

_Fai. Fai…_

No. No, he can’t, pressing the heel of his palms into his black, black eyes, his soul hollowed and mundane without magic. Dammit! If only he could talk to Kurogane, ask him where the hell he’d been, if they were in any danger, try to plan what to do next…

Ashura, his Ashura, had once taught him a spell of comprehension, granting the caster the ability to understand someone perfectly, beyond the simple words they spoke, down to their very intention. Fai had been terrible at it, but it was how he managed his first couple years in Ceres, before native comprehension dawned on him. Obviously, he couldn’t use that spell now even if he wanted to, but he would have to learn the language in earnest if he had any hope of making it through this distraction with the shreds of his sanity intact.

Dawn’s warm light greets his fuzzy thoughts as the sun peeks through their small window. With the ninja still missing, Fai decides to go back to the infirmary just as the door slides open with a rough shove. Kurogane, looking as tired as Fai, grumbles something and falls into his futon, immediately asleep. He’s wearing different clothes, now; blue and black robes, and a headband bearing the insignia of a moon he had seen in Yasha’s throne room. Fai stands over the ninja, scowling even in sleep, nudging his shoulder with his slender bare foot.

“When you wake, Kuro-liar, we are going to have words.”

* * *

With Kurogane back in the room, Fai manages to catch a few more hours of sleep through the morning. He hates the realization he can’t sleep without the warrior nearby. He’d thought he’d purged himself of such weaknesses long ago, but this country has been wresting his hard-won freedoms from him, one by one. The sweet long-haired guard from yesterday brings bread rolls, rice, and alcohol sometime in the late afternoon, once Fai can no longer see the sun through the window. Kurogane hasn’t woken once. Judging from this guard and the still-quiet castle, many others are likely just as tired.

Fai eats his and Kurogane’s portion of the food, holding the chopsticks as like Souseki taught him so he can shovel rice into his mouth. Stomach full but with nothing else to do, he starts to drink. It’s a pale color, but the flavor is thicker than wine, more earthen and hot. The effects go to his head quickly, and he feels a warm buzzing in his skull that doesn’t subside as fast as he expects.

When was the last time he’d been truly drunk? He’d played around a bit in Ôto and Shara, letting his tipsiness trigger Kurogane’s short fuse for a laugh. But normally, his magic clears alcohol from his system in short order, and he doesn’t feel the effects long. This drunkenness... lingers. Maybe drinking two whole bottles by himself had been a poor decision.

He’s still feeling the effects when Kurogane wakes, just as the sky dims from blue to pink. “Good morning, Kuro-sleepy,” Fai greets him, surprised at the slight slur of his words. Would Kurogane even notice? He doesn’t know how his language is supposed to sound, after all.

The ninja groans and rubs at his shoulder. A flare of anger flashes through Fai’s chest. Kurogane went off to fight somewhere, getting himself hurt, risking getting himself killed, and shoved him away last night when he showed his concern. He didn’t even come back in the night to show Fai he lived. Did he truly care so little?

Kurogane’s eyes slowly take in the room, recognition dawning as he remembers last night. His bleary, exhausted body walking him to his room after that medic shooed him out in favor of more injured patients. He barely remembered the journey. But then his eyes alight on the empty bottles of sake and the lingering pink of the wizard’s cheeks. What, he just decided to get drunk all day? There were empty plates of food, too. Damn him, he didn’t leave Kurogane anything?

The pair glare at each other, but neither try to speak. Kurogane doesn’t even try to correct the nickname, which Fai knows he understood a least a little after yesterday’s little test. “Kuro-asshole,” he tries, knowing the second word wouldn’t be translated. “Kuro-jerk. Kuro-meanie.”

Every _Kuro_ makes his face tic, and Fai feels a teensy bit better, but maybe that’s drunken giddiness.

“無駄な飲酒,” Kurogane growls.

“Kuro-babble, you know I don’t understand you.” He leans against a wall to hide the sway of his stance. “Kuro-pouty, I’m going to say your name over and over again because that’s the only thing you can understand, and I want to annoy you in revenge for what you did. Kuro-ninja, what were you doing last night? Kuro-loner, leaving me alone like that, so cruel. Kuro-cutie-”

“黙れ.” Kurogane’s voice is low like a threat. Boring. Not cute at all.

“What, Kuro-sulk, are you mad? Well, so am I. Kuro-traitor, don’t you even care that I worried about you? You pushed me away so harshly, Kuro-hurt, I just wanted to know you were okay, don’t you even care? Kuro-darling, you don’t even know what it means for me to worry about you. I’m not even supposed to be your friend, but you keep making things so fun, Kuro-goofy. You don’t know what you do to me, Kuro-sexy.”

Kurogane grabs Fai’s wrist and yanks him hard, and Fai nearly falls over his feet as the room lurches nauseatingly. Even sitting on the ground, Kurogane has better leverage and more strength than Fai, and nearly yanks him to the ground. Or into his futon. “Kuro-cruel,” Fai whines, but Kurogane stands and yanks him out the door, hands still clasped.

“外に出ます,” he spits at the guard, who blinks so hard and fast Fai is sure they had been asleep moments ago.

Fai stumbles after Kurogane, more curious about what set the ninja off. His teasing had been pretty brutal this time, but he didn’t understand anything but the nickname. Is he planing to make Fai room somewhere else? He slides his wrist expertly until he can link his fingers with Kurogane. His pace stutters only briefly, but he doesn’t turn to look at him, still dragging him through the gradual sloping wood floors of the castle. “Kuro-sweet, such a tease,” he murmurs, head swimming.

* * *

Kurogane has had enough of the drunken babble, but more than pure annoyance, he knows something is going on with the wizard. He is _off._ Well, he’s always off somehow, but this behavior is entirely out of character. Drinking, sure. Teasing, always. But the face he showed him last night- it had been the first time he’d seen anything real in his eyes. Ironic, considering these weren’t his eyes at all, not really. And now, drunk, going off in that trilling language of his, he saw that expression again. Anger. Disappointment. And buried deep beneath it all, fear.

He squeezes the damn mage’s fingers between his a little too harsh, perhaps. Probably reading more as anger than he intends. Is he angry? Generally speaking of the wizard, yes, Kurogane is probably angry at him for _something._ But thinking about it, he has even less idea of what’s in his head than usual. They hadn’t been able to communicate almost anything, except the idea that names can be said without difficulty. Ever since, about the only thing he seems to be saying is Kurogane’s name, over and over, each with a new nonsense word attached to the end.

At first, it seemed like he just wanted to torment him with the nicknames, but in between each name was a pointed, purposeful jabbering, his tone sounding like a lecture and tinged with hurt, perhaps even sorrow. His mood is impossible to read, but Kurogane has to grudgingly admit- Fai likely has no idea what was going on still. How or why Kurogane had been hurt, even if his concern last night felt demeaning. Last night was the final moon for this month. If he’s going up again in three weeks, he needs some way to let Fai know. He can do that much for him, at least. Maybe it’ll make him less annoying until they find the white pork bun.

Finally, he manages to find his way through the confusing twist of identical hallways and gets them outside. By now, the sky is fully dark, the moon just cresting the horizon. The sky is bright enough with its refracted light to show the shadow of the Moon Castle drifting overhead. Fai’s eyes are drawn to immediately. He must have seen it last night, too. But how can he explain to him that they were transported there? That he would be back there again.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, he pulls the wizard the rest of the way to the clearing, ringed by massive, ancient standing stones, demarcating the field that teleports them to the battlefield.

Fai sways against Kurogane, some of his anger burned through to a strange hollowness. He’d never seen the magician’s expression so empty before. “Pole nagu see, et sa isegi minust hoolid,” he murmurs. “Ja te ei peaks seda tegema. Võib-olla on siin olemine ka teile needus.”

Kurogane shakes him via their connected hands until light sparks back in his eyes. “Jah, mu tüütu väike, Kuro-sõber?”

He grits his teeth. Those nicknames sound even more annoying in his language. Using their clasped hands, Kurogane raises Fai’s arm and makes him point at the moon rising in the sky.

“Moon. _Tsuki._ ” he says clearly. Fai stares. “ _Moon,_ ” he says again, pointing. He’s not sure how much Nihongo he can teach Fai, but might as well start with the basics. And in Yama, those basics center around the moon and the castle.

“Soo-kee?” Fai repeats slowly, and Kurogane’s throat leaps with a tense little swallow. Whether through drunkenness, the unfamiliar language, or both, Fai’s pronunciation lost the subtle sibilance of the _tsu,_ turning it to a hard _s._ Meaning what Fai just said was “suki.” _I love you._

“ _Tsu-ki,_ ” he repeats slower. Damn. He knows Fai doesn’t understand what he just said, but how did this lesson immediately start off so awkwardly? Fai leans in closer to Kurogane, following the line of his sight to make sure they were looking at the same thing. Kurogane curses himself. Of all the first things to teach him to say…

“ _Tsuki_ ,” Fai repeats with more confidence. The near-full moon reflects boldly in his dark eyes. Kurogane shifts his pointing finger to the dark, jagged castle hanging miles above them. “Castle. _Shiro._ ”

“She-ro.” Again, his first attempt trills the _ro_ in a way that stings Kurogane’s ears. Not as awkward as his first blunder with _tsuki,_ at least. He needs to make sure Fai learns that one first, otherwise he may start telling random soldiers he loves them.

“ _Tsuki shiro._ Moon castle.” Then, unsure how to get this next point across, Kurogane sweeps his arm wide, trying to suggest the whole of the clearing, then slowly, making sure Fai is watching, points up to the castle.

Fai ponders this, watching Kurogane repeat the gesture with no hint of mirth in his face. He holds his palm over the ground, as though feeling for something, then his expression twists painfully, and he withdraws his hand, looking despondent.

“Magic?” Kurogane offers, then silently curses himself. Fai stares at him, not sure what he just said. Of course not. He had no context for that word yet. Fai examines the standing stones, running his fingers along the ancient, smooth grey face, eyes studying the bumps and ridges underneath his hands.

“ _Shiro._ ” He whispers, glancing at the moon, then finally at Kurogane. “ _Soo-ki._ ”

Kurogane’s spine shivers at the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Google translate for Kurogane's Japanese and Fai's Estonian. You can use that to translate back what they're saying... and if the translation is weird, well, we'll pretend that's because their language isn't *exact* matches for our Earth equivalents....  
> Yeah, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.


	4. Charades

Fai traces his fingers along the outer face of the standing stones, finding ancient, deep, intentional grooves running from top to bottom. Runes, although by touch alone he cannot tell if he recognizes them. Frustration pools in the back of his skull. He’s _useless_ without all his senses. He should be able to easily tell if the stones are magic, what type of magic they hold, how to activate the magic. Maybe even repurpose the magic, if it’s teleportation-based as he suspects, to find out where their little Mokona vanished off to. It would fill in so many gaps. He swore to never use his magic once he left Ceres, but he never expected to be so helpless.

Kurogane watches him with sharp eyes. As best he could, he taught Fai about the crystal castle, gave him the word for moon. What do those have to do with each other? They must be important, if those are the first things he taught him to say. Does the moon indicate the castle is only accessible at night? At certain times? Is the positioning important? Kurogane’s silly gesticulations, while amusing, do not add much to this basic understanding.

He had seen the Yasha soldiers appear suddenly in this field in a flash of light. Clearly, their battle happened somewhere else, and this field plays some role. Being in this clearing somehow results to being placed on a battlefield, far above their heads. But no one else is here tonight. Are they not going? Or will that be later? He frowns, hands trying to memorize the patterns on the stones. If he had some charcoal, he could take some rubbings and try to make sense of them back in their room.

How can he ask follow-up questions when he can’t express when, why, or how? All he has is _what._ And pointing.

He catches Kurogane’s wrist and gently pulls him to stand in the clearing with Fai. His eyes are hard, but this time from concentration, not annoyance. Fai points to himself, then Kurogane, then to Yasha’s castle up the mountain. Slowly, he then points to the middle of the field, twirling it in a circle in an attempt to convey, _we all gather here?_ Then gesturing around one more time, he points to the castle above them. _Then everyone here goes up there?_

Kurogane starts to nod, stops, frowns, scowls, then shakes his head. “バカみたいな感じ,” he mutters.

“I don’t understand either, Kuro-moon.”

Kurogane points to himself, the castle, then mimics Fai’s grouping motion, then to the floating structure. That makes Fai raise a suspicious eyebrow. _What, he doesn’t want me going, too?_

He wants to ask if they are going tonight, but he’s at a loss how to convey this. Fai looks at Kurogane nervously, then to the clearing, then to the crystalline pupils overhead. His eyes meet Kurogane’s, trying to implore the meaning for him. As an answer, Kurogane shakes his head and walks up the path towards Yasha’s castle. Is that a no? Or is he just done with this non-conversation?

But surprisingly, Kurogane stops shortly outside the clearing, grabbing a long stick broken off from a single lone tree. He hunches over the ground and moves the stick in the dirt to make a crude, rough pattern.

He draws a circle that is filled in the hashmarks in the dirt. Then a crescent, opened points facing left. Then a circle with no markings in the middle. Then another crescent, a mirror of the first. Then finally, another filled-in circle. He looks to Fai, expression almost pleading.

These must be moon cycles. A new, or perhaps full, moon to begin. Then, a waxing crescent moon, if he’s not mistaken from the angle, then full (or new, if he is mistaken about the crescent shape), then a waning crescent, then the cycle repeats. Fai nods in understanding, pointing to the full moon and repeating, “Tsuki.” The moon phases. So?

Kurogane intentionally taps the circle in the middle, then slowly points to the castle. He then holds up three fingers.

This moon phase… it must be a full moon. Yesterday was a full moon, as tonight is as well. Or at least, appears full. If Fai is guessing correctly… then perhaps they travel to the castle every full moon. But what do the three fingers signify? Three companies that travel? The effect lasts three turns of the clock? Seeing his lost expression, Kurogane quickly jot three lines above the full moon symbol, but he’s still not sure. With a growl, Kurogane taps the moon once, the point above them. Taps the moon, points above them, then repeats one more time.

Three nights. It must mean for three nights, they visit the castle. Three nights of a full moon. Good to know. A few worlds they’d been to had nights longer than days, had multiple moons, had astral bodies that did not cycle or change. No guarantee how long the full moon lasted. Fai meets Kurogane’s eyes and nods with some confidence, but can’t help but ask, “And tonight?” He glances at the moon. It still looks full, but is it full enough?

Following his eyes, Kurogane shakes his head. He points to the bare patch just past the full moon, not quite on the crescent. Fai didn’t realize how tense he’d been until his shoulders relax, sore jaw clenches. Thank goodness. He won’t – he shouldn’t – have anywhere else to go tonight.

Kurogane, satisfied by Fai’s apparent comprehension, scuffs out his little sketches with his sandal and nods up the hill, towards their new home. Fai follows a little unsteadily. Moon. Castle. Every full moon, for three days. And Kurogane didn’t want him to go.

He has a month to figure out how to change that.

* * *

Back in their in the Palace, Kurogane eyes the mage with a bit of trepidation. He acted like he understood what Kurogane was trying to convey – castle, full moon, fighting – but he can’t be _sure_ the right message went through, only that Fai understood _something._ Well, he managed not to tell the moon he loved it. That will have to be enough for now.

After sleeping all day, he doesn’t feel very tired. Fai’s drunkenness has abated a bit, and he walks into the entrance hall without a stumble. Kurogane has been given free range of Yasha’s domain as a soldier, but he hadn’t really discussed his companion or his mobility.

They should be serving evening meals by now. Over the next few days, Yasha’s troops will begin to return to a diurnal schedule, but while they adjust, meals are rearranged so the sleep-addled soldiers get their meals. Someone brought food to their room during the day – probably another soldier, there’s few non-combatants here – but he’s not sure Fai is still hungry. Without thinking, he asks, “Are you hungry?”

Fai tilts his head. Gods. Is this how it’s going to be until they find the pork bun? He runs a hand through his hair. He does not envy this game of charades for the foreseeable future. He tries to mime eating, pretending to use his hands to put something in his mouth, but Fai’s confusion only deepens. “I can’t leave you anywhere, can I?” He sighs, then just takes Fai’s hand in his and begins to walk to the mess hall.

Fai stumbles after him a bit but doesn’t try to pull away. It probably pains him to be at Kurogane’s mercy… actually, no, a glance back at him reveals that goofy, carefree smile once more. He must think this is hilarious, idiot mage. His fingers wraps around his own like it’s the most natural thing. Kurogane _has_ been dragging him around lately, but only out of necessity. He better not get used to it.

When they finally enter the dining area, Kurogane has a moment to realize his mistake. It’s full of soldiers, some he recognizes, most he does not, and they’re all laughing, teasing, mocking, and generally kicking up a ruckus, loud and brash and unfamiliar. Large communal tables are arranged in rows in the middle of the room, and the wall opposite the doors contain even longer tables full of food. People walk up and take what they please, a feast fit for another successful month of fighting.

Fai stills slightly near him, his smile fixed woodenly in place. Kurogane hadn’t tried to explain that Fai can’t communicate, and Fai has never tried to speak his language around anyone but Kurogane. If everyone here is from Yama, and everyone from Yama speaks one language, Fai would be too suspicious if he revealed the truth. Especially now that Kurogane gained the trust of the Yasha clan, he couldn’t risk Fai being exposed, and the magician’s stillness confirmed these thoughts.

Kurogane does not release his grip on Fai as he marches up to a table that only has a couple people sitting at the far end, faces he recognizes. Esha, the newbie who had been their guard briefly, waves and smiles, along with a woman with short fiery red hair whose name he does not know, but he remembers her terrifying battleaxe.

“Kurogane-san!” Esha calls warmly. “I heard about your promotion from Manas. Congratulations!”

“Less of a promotion, more of a recruitment.”

Esha’s smile does not waver. “Still, though, the congratulations stand. Do you remember Koshi?” He gestures to the axe-wielder.

“I do. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

She grins at him toothily. “We should spar sometime. You had some impressive techniques yourself out there.”

Esha’s gaze slides over to Fai expectantly. “Ah, I’m sorry, I can’t remember if you ever told us your name…?”

“Fai,” Kurogane answers for him. Fai blinks once then waves to the others. “Fai, that’s Esha, and Koshi,” he repeats, pointing to each of them, maybe a little too slow. The magician nods, his expression enigmatic.

Esha’s own face dims somewhat. “Not much of a talker, is he?”

“Nope,” Kurogane answers gruffly. His mind races for a moment. Should he take Fai to get food? Leave him here and get something? Dammit, he never even found out if Fai actually wants to eat. Well, _he_ sure does, and he can’t trust that Fai’s lack of communication won’t cause an issue. “We’re just getting some food and then we’re going back to our room.”

Koshi’s sneer is positively wolfish. “Ahh, I thought you might have _that_ kind of relationship. Can’t wait to be alone and celebrate with just the two of you, eh?”

Esha’s face grows red, and Kurogane feels his own heart clench violently in his chest. “Koshi!” Esha chastises, causing her to erupt in bawdy laughter. To Kurogane’s horror, Fai tightens his hold and leans against him, and is his face still red from the wine? Why is he looking like that?

“ _Kuro,_ ” he murmurs, practically purring. Esha, still a little embarrassed, looks between the two of them.

“You do seem very close. I wondered at your relationship.”

“We’re not-” Kurogane starts, but Koshi is already slapping her leg.

“Listen to that voice! Not much of a talker, eh? Well, I’ll bet if anyone’s posted outside their room tonight, we’ll sure hear _something,_ eh, Esha?”

Esha covers their face with a delicate hand, trying to hide the smirk, and Kurogane’s head is spinning and his mouth is sputtering and Fai is looking up at him, eyes glittering with laughter…

Son of a… he’s doing this on _purpose_!

Furious, Kurogane throws off Fai’s surprisingly tightly hold and storms over to the table of food, piling up all kinds of food without even paying attention before his free arm hooks around Fai’s waist and drags him to the exit. Koshi hoots at his back, including encouragements to Fai not to break their newest warrior before the next full moon, and Kurogane is truly grateful for the first time that Fai does not understand what she said. However, the way he twiddles his fingers at her in a salacious little wave suggests he at least guessed some of the content. Ears burning, he drags Fai back into their room.


	5. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated but please note, this chapter contains mild descriptions of blood, wounds, and wound care, so please watch out for that if you are sensitive to it.

It’s not hard to know when one is gossiping about you. Fai had watched the way the woman – Koshi, Fai believes – eyed the two of them, grinned at them. The way the guard Esha blushed and glanced away. It’s clear what they assumed. Fai isn’t sure what cover story Kurogane gave, but he knew the ninja would not have come up with _that_ on his own, especially given the flustered way he reacted to the teasing. Fai couldn’t help but play into it. Perhaps, if they assumed they were lovers, they wouldn’t separate them.

It’s just for convenience, Fai tells himself, trying to assuage the baseless fear that he will somehow lose Kurogane. At least he can communicate with Kurogane a little, but it’s hard to admit his reliance on him. He remembers what he told Kurogane in that bar in Oto, how he wishes he could be just swept away… although, he isn’t sure this really counts. _It’s just a necessity. Don’t get caught up in the fantasy._

Kurogane drags him back to their room, huffing angrily and muttering more words Fai doesn’t understand, but it makes him titter. Flustered Kurogane is always so fun. But… no. He’s not grumbling just about Fai’s little act back there. He holds the tray of food with his right hand, left arm around Fai’s waist, but the dishes rattle uneasily on the platter. Kurogane lets him go and quickly sets the food on the floor, immediately rolling his shoulder. Right. That was where Kurogane was shot last night.

Idiot, how could he forget? Kurogane is always so tough and stoic, so he doesn’t often show pain, but carrying all that stuff around one-handed has stressed out his shoulder. Fai steps in front of Kurogane, hands hovering over the injury. Kurogane glowers at him and jerks back.

“いいえ,” he spits.

Iie? What is that, stop? No? Maybe even an insult? Fai frowns, annoyed. He taught him moon, and castle, but not even yes or no. Kurogane was right when he told Syaoran he might not be a good teacher. Fai reaches for Kurogane again, more insistently this time.

He growls and grabs his wrist, and Fai has had enough. “Iie!” He snaps back. Whatever Kurogane said to him, it probably applies here, too.

Kurogane’s eyes widen. What did Fai actually say? But surprisingly, Kurogane releases him and says under his breath, “いいよ, どうぞ.”

Fai furrows his brow. Can’t Kurogane learn to just say simple words in context so Fai can start to learn? That first word he just said was _iiyo,_ similar to the _iie_ from earlier _._ Did that mean _iiyo_ is yes, and _iie_ is no? What about the second word, _dozo?_ Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Fai said _iie,_ and that got Kurogane to stop, well, stopping him. Maybe it’s a useful word to keep around. He adds it to his very short list as he gently prods Kurogane’s shoulder.

He flinches but tries to act like he didn’t. Slowly, eyes trained on Kurogane’s face, Fai slides down the edge of his robe to reveal his shoulder. It’s wrapped up in gauze, almost to his collarbone, but low enough to be kept hidden under his clothes, and finally looping under his armpit. A red spot grows slowly in the center, and Fai bites his lip. Clearly, no magical healing here. Kurogane is overexerting himself. Does he need to get a follow-up? Did he reopen the wound? What if it wasn’t cleaned properly, could it get infected?

Fai could never use his magic for healing, so he made sure he knew how to heal in more mundane ways. Steeling his resolve, Fai begins to unwrap the bandages. “ダメ.” Kurogane says sharply.

 _Why can’t you just stick with the same words? How many ways does Kuro-hurt know how to say no?_ He doesn’t want to dwell on that one, actually.

Instead, he meets Kurogane’s eyes, asks in a pleading voice, “Iie?”

It makes Kurogane’s breath stutter. Then he scowls and closes his eyes. “ いいよ , どうぞ .” There it was again. _Iiyo, dozo._ Maybe something like “go ahead”?

There will be time to learn later. Apparently having gotten permission, Fai unwinds his bandages, each layer growing redder and stickier with old dried blood. When the wound is exposed to air, Kurogane inhales on a hiss. It must sting. Fai scans the wound, doesn’t see any sign of infection. Yet. But blood has started to seep around a red mass in the wound. Ah, the medic must have packed it. From what he knows about wound care, that could be helpful for a deep puncture like this. But these need to be changed out, and he doesn’t have any suitable material around. Fai clucks his tongue. They need to see the medic again.

Roughly re-wrapping his shoulder, Kurogane moves to sit down. “Iie,” Fai says again, and Kurogane frowns at him. Did he misuse it this time? Maybe not, but at least it got his attention. He pulls at his hand, trying to get him to follow. _Come on,_ he wishes he knew how to say. _Just come with me._

With a sigh and a last longing look towards the food, Kurogane allows himself to be pulled along by Fai. Fortunately, Fai remembers where the medical wing is. The castle is confusingly laid out, by design, but he had lived nearly a century in Ruval Castle, where magical deception was the norm. Halls where the floor was an illusion over a pit trap, invisible doors, locks that could only be opened by holding a particular thought in one’s mind, walls that could be walked through, towers climbable only through flight spells. Comparatively, this place is simple enough to navigate.

There’s the main entrance hall, to which the dining area is adjacent. The other side leads to the medical wing; convenient, after all, to have it so close to the entrance for the soldiers who return wounded from the Moon Castle. And of course, presumably the guest or living quarters, where they stayed, built up a subtle incline in line with the ascension of the mountain peak.

Fai finds the medical wing much quieter than it had been last night. Cries and groans of pain muted to shuffling noises, anesthetized moans, whispers of caretakers. He feels Kurogane studying his face as he flags down a medic.

* * *

He’s worrying too much, Kurogane thinks to himself in irritation. He’d been hurt worse before, this would heal on its own. Just because it ached a little, the wizard doesn’t have to get all upset about it.

So why is he being so insistent? The way he so quickly picked up on snapping _no_ at him, what else was he learning? It made Kurogane realize how trapped Fai is without language, how he had to pull at threads to even get the word _no._ Stupid. He taught him how to say _moon_ first. Like that’s actually helpful.

The medic checks his wound, replaces the cotton jammed in the opening and earning a grunt and a glare from Kuorgane at her rough treatment. Fai’s expression is the blank variety of unreadable, black eyes flat, straight lips, no affect. Watching closely as his shoulder is re-bandaged.

“It’s good you brought him back. I bet he doesn’t even remember the care routine we told him,” she tells Fai with a laugh. He returns nothing but a smile and a slight tilt of his head, which could either be a nod of agreement or ambivalent acknowledgment, working no matter the context.

“Just bring him around once a day, we can get the wound checked, cleaned, and wrapped up. He’ll be in fighting shape by the next full moon!”

His eyes only flicker with recognition at the word _moon._ Well, maybe Kurogane wasn’t entirely off basis teaching him that one. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep coming around until it’s better,” Kurogane jumps in to keep Fai from having to intuit a response. But she smirks at the wizard and leans over to whisper in his ear. Fai mimics her expression, forcing through a snide chuckle. She raises her eyebrow at him, and he freezes. Kurogane’s heart slams against his ribs, and he forces out the words, “Thank you for your hard work, but we should be getting back now.” He grabs the back of Fai’s collar and pulls him along, and the wizard stumbles after him.

Kurogane didn’t hear what she said, but clearly, she expected some kind of response, one Fai couldn’t give. Dammit, he is going to have to start teaching him in earnest, isn’t he? The ninja can’t even look at him right now, feeling too ashamed. It had been cruel of him to ignore Fai this long, even if he is irritating. Well, he can start fixing that now. When they get to an empty passageway, Kurogane checks the side rooms until he finds an unused training room, a long chamber filled with dummies and sandbags, and he pulls Fai inside with him, sliding the door closed behind him.

Fai looks… disheveled. His robes hang askew off his narrow frame from Kurogane’s jostling, hair slightly mussed, eyes wide. Shit, he has no idea what Kurogane is doing, does he? Running a hand through his short hair, Kurogane takes a deep breath to steady himself as Fai leans against a wall, looking ready to bolt at any moment.

“Yes,” Kurogane says awkwardly, then nods his head purposefully. Fai’s expression fizzles into confusion. He repeats the word and the gesture, feeling like an idiot, but he needs to do this.

Recognition flits across his face. “Yes,” Fai repeats back in Nihongo. Simple, easy, no flaws in pronunciation.

Good. Kurogane shakes his head and says “No.” This one he already knows, and Fai’s mysterious smile finally meets his eyes.

“No,” the wizard repeats back confidently. Kurogane goes through what he can mime on short notice. Basic body parts – head, arms, legs, _shoulder,_ stomach. Yes, no, left, right, up, down. Go, stop. Robe, sword (maybe just _weapon?_ That one was hard to get across at first), shoe. They breeze through the words with Kurogane having little expectation of him remembering, but at least they have a baseline to practice.

When Kurogane runs out of ideas for what to say, Fai crosses his arms over his chest, glancing around the room in the ensuing silence. He mouths the words he had just learned, clearly going over them in his head. Kurogane trails his eyes around everywhere, trying to think of other things he can give Fai the words for, but he keeps landing back on the wizard himself. He looks so frail. He’s always thought that, but the way he’s defended himself in combat, the way he holds himself with an easy confidence, weight balanced perfectly at all times, shows warrior training. But he’s never seen him use a weapon unless he was forced to- a staff, like the wand he gave to the witch in Koryo country, and occasionally a sword, but he never used it to cut, only striking with the flat of the blade.

As a mage, he likely used to fight with his magic, but he knows how to navigate a battlefield even without using it and is dexterous enough for melee combat. And yet, he is so slender. His arms wrap tighter around himself, and Kurogane dimly realizes he’s still wearing the clothes from Shara. Manas said winter is approaching. Fai has mentioned being from a cold country, but surely he’ll need something more suitable to wear soon, especially if they have to be here a few weeks to find the kids.

“Come on,” Kurogane encourages, breaking the spell and catching Fai’s attention with the unfamiliar words. He plucks the hem of his sleeve. “Robe,” he repeats, then adds, “let’s get you one.” He points to Fai to try to get that across. Fai tries to repeat the gesture with his own sleeve, repeating the word, but Kurogane sighs. That’s not what… “Come here,” he says, then takes Fai’s hand. Maybe if he can get across the meaning of this phrase, he can stop hand-holding Fai through this castle. Although it is convenient, to be able to hold on to him like this, take him where he wants.

Kurogane leads them out of the training room and navigates back to the quartermaster, where he was outfitted last night.

* * *

Kurogane has properly taught Fai some new words. The suddenness of it shocked him, especially when he pulled him aside in an empty room with a sudden eagerness Fai had come to associate with hidden trysts in secret rooms, a lifetime ago. Still, it was a relief to have a few basic words down, although he’s not sure what else Kurogane has in mind. He pointed to his clothes, then to Fai? If it had been someone other than Kurogane saying those things, it might have made him blush. Kurogane didn’t think of Fai like that, though; his dirty mind was just getting ahead of him.

More hallways and passageways and Kurogane has led him to another small room, this one no bigger than a closet. There’s a desk in front of a large wooden door, different than the sliding panels everywhere else. At the desk sits a gruff old man, beard trailing down to his sternum and small round glasses perched on his nose. Kurogane converses with him briefly, and Fai catches the word Kurogane just gave him for _robe._ Or maybe it was sleeve? Clothes? The exact translation might be a mystery for now, but clearly it related to what he was wearing.

The old man shuffles out from behind the desk and eyes Fai up and down. Fai glances at Kurogane, who just gives a little encouraging nod. The man lifts Fai’s arm, touches his neck, his waist, his thigh, but with businesslike efficiency, eyes darting mechanically, not lustfully, over his body. He then clucks his tongue and returns to his desk, eyes scanning over a ledger without even a side eye back to Fai. It’s over as quick as it started, Fai feeling strangely dazed. Eventually the man finds what he’s looking for, tapping something in the ledger and nodding, then disappearing behind the door at the back of the room. Fai stands still in shock. What could Kurogane possibly be planning?

The ninja looks almost bored, arms crossed, leaning against a wall. They wait for several minutes, Fai’s new words of absolutely no help. Finally, when the man returns, he has bundles of cloth in his arms and unceremoniously shoves them at Fai, who takes them reflexively.

“行くぞ,” Kurogane says again. That’s what he said right before he led him from the training room, but this time he’s staring meaningfully at Fai, not touching. What, another lesson? Does this phrase mean “follow me” or something? Fai takes a tentative step towards the ninja, who nods and actually smiles at him, turning and heading out the door.

Fai follows in a haze. Did Kurogane just get new clothes for him? He studies the bundle in his arms- thick woolen robes and cloaks, similar to what Kurogane is currently wearing, and his throat tightens. Warm clothes. It is a little drafty in the castle, but this would be a balmy warm summer in Ceres by comparison. Fai barely even noticed it. Was Kurogane concerned about him? Or did he just need new clothes to fit in?

Regardless, before he puts on the new clothes, Fai desperately wants a bath. He knows they have food in their room, but if they are going to be a while, Fai wants to get clean before trying on this outfit. But how is he going to ask?

They eat in their room in silence, since Fai doesn’t know how to say thank you. Kurogane is being unusually considerate today, and Fai doesn’t trust it. But he might as well get what he can out of this good mood, so when they finish their meal, Fai grabs more paper and ink and begins to sketch: a tall black cat, like the one he drew instead of giving himself a name in Oto. Putting his name to paper would have given evidence of his passing, something he couldn’t risk if ( _not if, when, it’s_ _**when** _) Ashura pursued him through dimensions. Around the black cat, he drew a large basin, surrounding the cat with little peaks and waves he hoped conveyed water. He showed Kurogane his drawing and beamed hopefully, tapping the little drawing in earnest.

Kurogane looks like he wants to snap at him for wasting his time, but he gathers himself and studies the drawing intently. “風呂?” He asks. Fai wants to nod, but he might be asking what the hell is wrong with Fai, instead of saying the word for bath. But, with a sigh, starting to look a little weary, Kurogane stands and stands those words that are probably _follow me._

This time, Kurogane leads them in a new direction, and Fai eagerly records the route so he can find the baths on his own next time. After a brief walk, Kurogane slides open the door to reveal the night sky, the waning moon shining just past the apex. _So it’s sometime past midnight. Will we end up sleeping all day from now on?_

But more than the fact they were now outside, which is certainly _not_ a bathing area, Fai spots a massive pool of steaming water seemingly carved from the rock and earth. “温泉,” Kurogane says with a sweeping gesture, looking pleased like he carved this watery pit himself. _Onsen?_ What the hell is that?

In the water, he noticed several men lounging about in the nude, soaking in the pool. Horror slowly dawns on him. Wait, these baths are...outdoors? And communal? Maybe… maybe he can wait until no one else uses them. But if someone walked in on him… if _Kuro_ walked in on him…

He nearly squeaks in surprise when he catches Kurogane from the corner of his eye, eagerly stripping of his robes. He covers his mouth with horror. _Am I... going to be bathing? With Kuro?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I won't show Fai learning Japanese one word at a time for the whole fic. Please forgive me for the excessive kanji and hiragana - I'm sure I'm misusing some of it.


	6. Onsen

When Manas told Kurogane the layout of the castle and the various amenities, he had honestly been most excited about the hot springs behind the castle. It has been ages since he’s relaxed in a traditional outdoor bath; indoor plumbing confuses and irritates him. Knobs for cold and hot? Which direction? Sometimes they change! And they usually have bathing rooms near the outhouse, which they _also_ put indoors! For Kurogane, nothing beats the ease and simplicity of soaking in a naturally heated pool. He had almost forgotten about it until the wizard asked about a bath, so he was happy to show him. So why is he now looking so confused and bothered?

Maybe he expects a separate area to disrobe and clean discreetly before getting in the water. Hanshin had something like that; Sorata called it a “shower.” But a quick scan around the area reveals no similar “showers” or stalls or anything of the sort, just lit torches casting the spring in warm flickering orange light. The current bathers have draped their clothes over some rocks that in all likelihood have been placed there for that very purpose. So with a shrug, Kurogane unwraps the ties to his robes and starts removing layers, walking towards the onsen.

Fai grabs his arm and stops him, his eyes wide and wild. Does he… not understand? “Bath,” he repeats again. _Furo_. The same word he used when looking at his goofy drawing. He points to the water for emphasis. It really is like speaking with a child. Fai’s eyebrows bunch up and he gapes, clearly wanting to express something, but with only a couple words, he is completely unable to. Kurogane extracts himself from Fai’s grip and resumes stripping. Fine. If he doesn’t want to bathe, he doesn’t have to, but Kurogane certainly does.

Nearer the edge of the spring, he sees a few other soldiers he recognizes, including Manas himself, lounging against a big rock in the middle of the large pool, the water up to his collarbone. “Kurogane-san,” he calls out, eyelids lowered to slits. He’d thought he had been asleep. “Wondered when you’d come join us.”

“Busy day,” he replies, throwing his outer robe over an unoccupied rock and pulling off his underrobe. “Busy evening.”

Manas chuckles knowingly. “Well, we’re going to resume daytime training operations by sunup. It’ll be hell for everyone, try to get some sleep tonight to get your schedule synced with the daylight.” The underrobe joins the upper layer, and Kurogane frees himself of his remaining clothes. Fai still lingers where he left him, eyes like saucers. Barely sparing him a glance and a huff, Kurogane lowers himself in the water, sighing at the heat immediately sinking into his muscles.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to stay on a night training routine?” Kurogane responds, inching his way deeper in the water. It’s hot enough that he wants to take it slow, every inch of skin stinging pleasantly as he wades further in. “Since these battles always happen at night, you should be training at night.”

“True,” Manas says with a sly grin, and Kurogane realizes he must get this question a lot. “Why didn’t I think of that. Training every evening. Sleeping all day. Can you imagine how much more effective we’d be?”

Kurogane glowers. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like a child. Manas shakes his head with a little laugh. “People don’t thrive well if deprived of sunlight. We have attempted nocturnal schedules, of course, but even when provided the best food, ample leave time, warm clothes and comfortable beds, the lack of sunlight eventually drains all morale. Day is the realm of light, of heat, of safety. Nighttime means battles. Death. Deception. Three nights every month, we lose at least a few soldiers. Have for as long as anyone can remember. No one ever has to see one of Ashura’s ilk in the daylight. Sunshine burns away some of the hardships of death, Kurogane-san. I don’t know about you, but not everyone can live bathed in the glory of battle.”

Poetic, pretty, simple words that Kurogane wants to scoff and rebut, but finds little argument against it. When he operated as a ninja, he frequently battled at night, under cover of darkness, sneaking and killing in secret, but more often he operated in broad daylight. He can’t imagine sacrificing one for the other. “Besides,” Manas says, stretching his arms over his head. “Though it hasn’t happened in a thousand years, sometimes Yama faces fighting from within, as well. We need to have soldiers prepared just in case.”

“Reasonable enough,” Kurogane concedes, finally up to his chest in water. The heat bleeds away any desire for argument anyway. “After a good soak, I’ll be more than ready for tomorrow.”

“And what about your companion, there?” Manas asks, eyes sliding towards Fai. He’s since stepped closer to the bath, but still fully dressed.

“Who knows what he’s up to,” Kurogane murmurs without thinking.

“Oh?” His eyebrows quirk up. “After listening to Koshi, I am surprised to see you both walking around so soon. I figured you would be...occupied. Lover’s quarrel, then?”

Kurogane whips his head around to Manas and storms towards him, though the water hampers his angry stride. “You too, Manas? Are you really going to provoke me with such ridiculous rumors?”

He must be in a good mood, because his black eyes simply twinkle in the light of the stars and torches. “I believe _he_ has something to say about that, as well.” An indelicate splash catches Kurogane's attention, and he turns to see Fai- mostly undressed, though he notices twisted ties of his undergarments still cinch his hips before they vanish beneath the steam and the water. Fai’s face is tomato-red, the color extending to his ears and down his neck, but he makes a beeline to Kurogane, grabbing his arm on his uninjured side and preventing him from moving any further towards Manas.

“What are you doing?” He snaps before cursing himself silently. Fai can’t understand him, and now he can’t even answer him. And now with Manas watching so closely, so amused, it’s going to sow doubt. If Manas also thinks they’re in a relationship… ugh, this is getting too complicated, too fast.

Fai, however, surprises him as always when he barks out, curt and sharp, “Shoulder _._ ”

Kurogane blinks. “What?”

With a gruff, Fai pokes Kurogane right in his injury, making him yelp. “ _Shoulder._ ” He insists.

Yes, that is the word for shoulder… no, wait, Fai means… right. He just got his shoulder re-bandaged. In his haste to get in Manas’s face, he got deeper and deeper until the water went past his elbows, threatening to soak the bottom of his new bandages. “Right,” Kurogane says slowly, realization dawning on him. “I shouldn’t get it wet, huh?” The doctor did mention something like that, when he first got it checked out. Keep it clean and dry, come back to have the packing and bandages replaced, don’t strain yourself, etc. But Fai hadn’t been there for that part, couldn’t have heard that part. He just knew what to do for a wound like this.

Manas watched the two with curious, probing eyes. “And you wonder why people are already talking,” he observes a little smugly.

Kurogane offers his best scowl of fury. “Whatever Koshi might have told you, she is wrong. We are _not_ like that.”

Manas shrugs indifferently, still grinning. “Matters little to us, so long as you keep fighting. Say, maybe he could even perform for us. He is a minstrel of some kind, isn’t he? He sang a lovely little thing the other day.”

Damn mage. Why’d he have to show off? “We’ll talk about it,” he says, knowing that is likely impossible at this stage. “But no promises.”

Manas hums and lets the rock behind him take his full weight once more, eyes slipping all the way closed. Kurogane is about to move somewhere else and do the same, let the water and volcanic minerals cleanse his body and soothe his mind, when Manas asks, almost as an afterthought, “Where in Yama are you from again, Kurogane-san? You and Fai-san must have come a very long way to be so unfamiliar with the Moon Castle.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Their usual bluff of “being from another country” won’t work here. There _are_ no other countries, besides Shura, and he knows Shura and Yama are somehow inaccessible to the other. And of course, he knows of nowhere else in Yama.

Kurogane’s out emerges in the form of Fai, leaning heavily on Kurogane’s arms, breathing quick and shallow. “Fai? What happened to you?” He’d never seen Fai look so… worked up. Cheeks pale instead of red now, sweat beading at his temples and carving stark little lines on his face, eyes watery and blank, mouth hanging open, chest heaving –

“Catch him!” Manas snaps, surging forward, but Kurogane is still closer and gathers Fai against his chest just as his knees give out under him, falling limp into Kurogane’s arms.

“Heat exhaustion,” Manas sighs, slowly putting away his corded muscles and extended hands, sinking back against the rock with a wary look. “Sometimes the heat and the steam get in peoples’ heads. Make sure he gets some water and rest and stays uncovered. And-” he smile returns to a naughty sneer – “Don’t overexert yourselves.”

“I _told_ you, we’re not –”

Manas tuts. “Now, now, get him out of here, I mean it!”

Nothing else to it. Given the angle Fai collapsed, it’s easiest to slip one arm under his head and the other under his knees and carry him back to solid ground. A few soldiers jeer at them, but Kurogane ignores them. Stepping back on shore, he’s able to shift his grip on Fai just enough to grab both their clothes, but obviously he can’t put them on like this. Damn mage. At least he’s light. In fact, he’s almost weightless, a long, gangly feather nestled against his bare chest.

Fai isn’t unconscious, per se, but his eyes are more hooded than usual, drooping, unfocused, breathing still shallow. A flash of heat zaps through him completely unrelated to the warmth of the springs. “Let’s… get you to bed,” he mutters, unable to look at that face.

* * *

Fai’s head swims. The bath had been distinctly mortifying on its own, and Kurogane… seeing Kurogane… no. No, he’s not going to dwell on every shift of corded muscle working under mottled scars across his back, the way his thighs flexed with every step. No, he’s not thinking about it.

But he knew he had to rush in to stop Kurogane from foolishly making his wounds worse or at least needing a second redressing in the same night. He didn’t predict, however, how his acclimation to the cold of Ceres would still make him susceptible to the muddling heat of the water. After just a few minutes, the heat licking up his legs and sides ( _bare, naked, in front of everyone, where Kurogane could see_ ), the steam coiling around his neck and face, clogging his lungs, making him feel faint.

Ceres was – is – a country of eternal snow. Even on the warmest days, he still needed to wear layers of fur to stay warm. Because of that, baths were certainly never done outdoors– always inside, and private, in small rooms and small pools because to heat so much water and maintain that heat would be wasteful. So small, quick, personal baths were the norm, although being in the palace, and a user of magic, Fai certainly indulged in his share of decadent soaks from time to time. Certainly he’s lived in milder climates in their recent travels, but the heat of _that_ pool was so intense, so fast, Fai couldn’t stand it. He remembers feeling dizzy, feeling weak, the head guard yelling something and then falling, falling…

Fai’s lying down. It takes him a while to realize that. His eyes are closed, but he still feels like he’s tipping backwards over a cliff, hurtling towards an unknown end. Steeling himself with intention, he catalogs every point of his body. Head, still and cushioned, resting on a pillow. Back, flat, lying on something soft. Arms at his sides, legs stretched out in front of him. All calm. Unmoving. The dizziness fades slightly as he reminds his traitorous brain that he’s not, in fact, spinning or falling or flying. His forehead is clammy from the sweat drying stickily in the cooler air.

But also, he’s naked.

He forces his eyes open, and even the light from a couple candles in the gloom hurt. He catches sight of Kurogane on the opposite wall, staring at him. At least _he’s_ dressed. Fai scrambles for a sheet, for his clothes, for something to cover himself, but he moves sluggishly. Less a frantic scramble and more sleepy wobbling. He tries to push up on his elbows but he can’t support his own weight, slipping back down and his head thunking dully back on the thin pillow, hitting the wooden floor underneath audibly. 

Kurogane jumps to his side at that, running a soothing hand against the back of his head. Fai groans and squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head for good measure. The worst. This is the worst possible outcome, to anything, to everything.

“Robe,” he groans, relieved he at least has the words for that.

Kurogane hesitates and he slowly reclaims his hand. Finally, he hears a little snap of cloth and cool, lightweight fabric settles over his torso and thighs. Not a blanket, and he doesn’t feel particularly _dressed,_ but it is something. Fighting the nausea, Fai turns away from Kurogane to lie on his side, pulling the robe tightly around himself.

He doesn’t think about Kurogane naked. He doesn’t think about _him_ being carried, mostly naked, in Kurogane’s naked arms, all the way to their room, like a bride. He doesn’t think about anything, and eventually, Kurogane settles on his side of the room.

He listens to Kurogane’s breathing ease into sleep, and thinks about all the things he can never be for him.


	7. As the Arrow Flies

Fai wakes to Kurogane shuffling about their room, sunlight pouring over his face. He groans, groggy and confused, his brain still on a nighttime sleep schedule. The sound pricks at Kurogane’s ears and he turns sharply to face Fai, and Fai thinks he catches a fleeting look of concern before settling back into his gruff, slightly annoyed default expression. Fai’s brain swims through a fog, trying to understand that face… then Kurogane’s hand is on his forehead, and the sense memory jolts him awake. _The outdoor bath. The heat. Naked. I passed out. Kurogane…_

He’s still draped in a thin cotton underrobe instead of a blanket. He wants to throw it away before he realizes he _still naked under here._ His face flushes from the feel of Kurogane’s hand and the knowledge he’s so close, and he’s not wearing anything, and the furrow between his brows deepens.

If he’s still worried about heat exhaustion, Fai feels fine. He brushes his hand away with a look he hopes is irritation, and Kurogane, for his part, doesn’t push him. He stands up and continues getting dressed, strapping sections of leather armor across his arms and torso.

Fai sits up, keeping the robe pulled high over his chest, watching curiously. Armor? Why would he need armor? Unless… no, no it’s definitely daylight outside. And he’s sure Kurogane told him, as best he could, their fights happen only at night, and only during the full moon. Which they should be past by now. Why did he need armor?

Kurogane spares him one more look, opens his mouth, then closes it without saying anything. He reaches for the door.

“Wait!” Fai yells before he can stop himself. Kurogane looks back, an eyebrow raised. Fai’s brain, still waking up, runs through the words he learned last night to try to piece together something usable. “Fai… _follow me,_ Kuro-puu?” He tries, and Kurogane’s eyes widen a little. Then he grins.

“君,” Kurogane says, pointing at Fai, then stops and frowns. “No… 私.” Then points again. _Watashi?_ Was he giving him some kind of nickname? But then Kurogane repeats slowly. “私はあなたと来ます.” He says the words slowly and purposefully, not like he’s lecturing or trying to converse. He thinks he hears a version of the _follow me_ phrase in there. Is Kurogane correcting his grammar?

Fai repeats the phrase back with hesitation, and Kurogane nods in encouragement. Fai says it again, and he smiles. Strange, how such a simple expression can pierce right through his heart. Then Kurogane leans against the edge of the sliding door and waits. And waits. And… oh. Oh, Fai said he wanted to go with Kurogane, so now Kurogane is waiting for him. So that means… he needs to get dressed. With Kurogane watching.

Certainly he didn’t intend this. Fai was the one who didn’t want to be left alone. Kurogane was just doing as he asked. But did he have to look so intently with those crimson eyes of his? Scowling, Fai holds the robe close around his body, trying to cover himself as much as possible as he stands. He shuffles over to the new clothing Kurogane had retrieved for him, not sure where to proceed. Right, these were more of those complicated robe things, with innumerable ties and long wide sleeves and layers that Fai could never keep up with. He had barely managed to get the Shara robes on, and now these? Multiple layers?

Kurogane sighs, and before Fai can even attempt to dress himself, Kurogane crosses the room and reaching for the robes, trying to pull the underrobe from Fai’s grip. He struggles for a moment before realizing how useless that is, then gives up, subjecting himself to the humiliation of being dressed like a child.

Luckily, Kurogane is quick and efficient, pulling and tying on three layers of robes before cinching the whole look with a pale blue ties around his waist. The look Kurogane then offers verges on _kind._ “Fai follow Kurogane?” he asks encouragingly, holding out his hand. Fai swallows.

“Anywhere,” he murmurs in his native tongue. Back in the bar called Clover, Fai had told Kurogane how much he wished he could be swept away like this. Fai places his hand in his, and allows himself to be led away.

\---

Today is the day Kurogane is supposed to begin training. Well, that’s the official story, but Manas said after seeing how Kurogane handled himself at the Moon Castle, today would be more like a demonstration for the others. Prove that he was certainly worth recruitment outside the festival.

It was kind of funny to hear Fai awkwardly say he wanted to come with him. Well, it makes sense; Kurogane did feel a little bad for how much he’s left him behind. But to hear him say it so insistently, poise and elegance forgone with faulty grammar, his face still flushed from the heat exhaustion, the wizard seemed unguarded for the first time. Vulnerable. _Cute._

Anyway.

Kurogane weaves through the halls, which are now bustling with activity. The last several days, Yasha’s castle had been a fairly quiet, desolate place, with soldiers sleeping at odd hours, or in the training halls while awake. Now, everyone has started returning to a daytime routine, and all the able-bodied are meeting by the fields in front of the compound. It’s the only place on this mountainous terrain large and flat enough for a whole army to fit.

Fai follows him like a child, staying close, occasionally grabbing the back of his robes when they pass through a big crowd. Some people recognize him and snicker as they pass, earning hard glares from Kurogane. But for the most part, he does not get recognized, most people eyeing him with confused suspicion, or not at all.

The morning sunlight nips at his eyes, and he flinches. Just a few nights of sunless activity and he’s already forgotten the feel of sunshine on his skin. Fai also cups his hands over his eyes, squinting. The mountain air is clean and fresh, still with a bite of chill from the night. Between the standing stones, various targets, dummies, hay bales, and sandbags have been arranged. The old quartermaster sits outside a small canvas tent, sharpening a small dagger, oblivious to the scurrying soldiers around him. There’s a flurry of men and women showing off scars, healing wounds, reenacting scenes from their battles for friends in other divisions. It’s almost like a game, and Kurogane realizes that it might be for many of them. If they were recruited during some kind of test of strength contest at a festival, then the army may be full of reckless show-offs instead of disciplined warriors. 

“Lively crowd, don’t you think?” Manas appears near Kurogane. Sneaky old guy. Kurogane had thought he sensed the quiet, pensive gray of his aura nearby.

“Almost too lively,” he grumbles, scanning the crowd. “This is your training day? It’s like they’re already getting ready for the festival.”

Manas sideeyes Kurogane. “I did remind you about how difficult it can be to maintain morale when we only keep nighttime hours, didn’t I? Letting the warriors have their fun when the next battle is long away is a critical part of keeping those spirits high. Some still have never wielded a sword against an enemy, and view our cyclic battles as a chance for glory. They have not had to see a friend die, see the light drain out of another’s face.” Steely eyes lock onto crimson. “But you have, haven’t you?”

Kurogane’s not sure he can answer. Last night, Manas had already tried pressing him on the specifics of where he was from, and Kurogane didn’t want to get himself trapped in a lie. “I’ve seen my share of violence,” he settles on.

“Enough that you can help me whip these neophytes into shape?” He asks, eyes hard.

Kurogane smirks. He heads over to a large stack of empty crates piled outside the stone circle. Containers for various small accouterments, like whetstones, slings, and bowstrings. Now emptied as they were being distributed where needed to the trainees.

Kurogane fills his hand with Sohi, naturally extending this length of his arm, and he feels complete. “Hama Ryū-ō Jin!” He roars, gathering his chi deep in his chest. The warm life energy swirls in his heart, filling him with purpose, and he channels that force through the swing of his arm. When Sohi connects to a target, the blade gleams in a bright yellow-green sheen, and through the force of the swing, the crates all explode in a flashy, spectacular fashion. Everyone stops.

“Listen up!” He yells to the crowd, who are now unerringly fixed on him. “My name is Kurogane. If you want to do more than just survive up in the Moon Castle, and earn a wish for King Yasha, then you’ll do as I say.” Hushed whispers spring up in pockets as the soldiers begin to crowd around him. Manas and Fai stand to the side, staring. Fai has his usual mask of confusion, while Manas has his arms crossed, grinning.

“Now play close attention,” Kurogane barks with authority, cutting off the wisps of chatter. “Some of you whelps may be good with a sword, or a bow, or a dagger. But that won’t save you in the heat of combat. Martial skill alone does not prepare you for a battle field. This –” he holds up Sohi – “is an extension of you will. Your body. You must use it as well as you use your own two hands and your own two feet. That’s step one. Step two –” he grins maliciously, “is don’t get killed.”

Everyone is exchanging glances now, a little bit afraid, a little bit annoyed. “Who thinks they can master the move I just performed?” Silence. He tries again. “Does anyone even know how I managed such destruction with just a swing of a sword?” Nothing. He growls in irritation, now. “Fine!” He snaps, moving towards the rows of dummies.

He orders the soldiers to stand in a row and attack a dummy with their choice of weapon, trying to see if any of them are in touch with their chi. One after the other after the other. He hears some murmur that only Yasha-o and Ashura-o have ever been seen attacking with such force, and curious, sometimes hateful glares are directed to Kurogane. Kurogane glowers at the lot of them, sheathing Sohi back at his side. “Well?” He cries. “A whole army of seasoned soldiers, and not one can impress me?”

An arrow whizzes past him with such speed and force he thinks the fletching nicks his cheek. He jerks away, wheels towards the targets behind him to see black-and-white feathers vanish through one dummy, then another, then another, before lodging with a _twaaaa-aang!_ into the forth. Kurogane is impressed, though he wishes his new star warrior would have waited their turn. He scans the crowd, looking for the candidate actually worthy of praise…

And spies Fai on a small berm of earth, directly opposite him. The sun catches his yellow hair and it shimmers like the dawn’s rays on a summer lake. A bow in his right, empty string thrumming near his drawn-back left hand.

He no longer looks cute. He looks like a soldier. And he’s beaming with arrogant pride.


	8. Whispers

It’s not magic. Fai knows it’s not magic because he _can’t_ do magic, not with his eyes like this. But from what he saw of Syaoran’s training with Kurogane, there is another force he could use, one Kurogane is familiar with. He never caught the name of this power, but Kurogane described it as the force of one’s soul, sharpened and made manifest, channeled into one’s weapon for devastating power. It’s not a power Fai has ever used before.

But when he sees it again on the training ground, he wonders. Maybe it’s not a skill he has, like how he could never use healing magic. Maybe it’s something he would have to hone over years, like Kurogane did. But watching other young soldiers approach the dummy and fail to demonstrate their skills, and Kurogane growing obviously annoyed at their failures, Fai can’t help but wonder. He’s been in fights. He has sharpened, manifested, channeled his magic to create devastating spells. He’s fought monsters for King Ashura. Could he channel a similar energy to fight with?

In a camp filled with soldiers, it’s not hard to spot spares weapons on racks. He scans through swords, clubs, whips, daggers, and staves. While a staff is similar to his wand, sadly lost to the witch several worlds ago, none of them feel right for this moment. Until he spots the bows and arrows. He’s passingly familiar with their use, after all, even though weapons were never his forte. Besides, if he’s going to join these battles with Kurogane (and he _will,_ he refuses to be left behind any more), keeping away from the hectic rush of melee will make sure he doesn’t get hit. He doesn’t like getting hurt. And the only damage Kurogane took was from an arrow. If he can snipe for targets that Kurogane could not engage hand-to-hand, they may have a better chance of surviving.

When he slings the quiver over his shoulder, Manas gives him a curious look, raising his eyebrow. Fai merely smiles, cresting the hill and nocking an arrow. He draws it back, taking aim at the target no one else had been able to best. Inhale, exhale. He focuses. Seeks instinctively for the well of power that has been missing ever since they arrived, but goes even deeper, for wherever his “soul” might be. Something small, warm, and glowing answers his call.

He steels his resolve. Like he might imbue his staff with a charm of banishment to drive away a monster, he focuses that light and power into the arrow. When he has a clear shot, no students or soldiers in his way, he releases the bowstring, and grins a little smug at the force of the blow.

More than relief at having this new power, Fai feels a rush of something hot and proud surfing through him when he catches Kurogane’s disbelieving face. The crowd also stares at him in awe, Manas nodding at him approvingly, but Kurogane’s face is the only one that matters. Kurogane hurriedly tells the crowd something, then storms up the hill like he’s about to yell at Fai. What, for “using magic”? Even he must know that wasn’t magic. It was the same power Kurogane has.

Still, it’s not like he can understand him still anyway. But when he summits the hill, Manas speaks to him with an encouraging inflection, glancing between Fai and Kurogane. The wizard isn’t sure if he’s actually being addressed or not, but he doesn’t hear his name. Kurogane answers on his behalf regardless, and they exchange a few words while Fai watches placidly, trying to tamp the sudden anxiousness crowding his chest. He didn’t step out of line, did he…?

But Kurogane doesn’t look worried or upset. Surprised, a little irritated maybe, but that’s not unusual for the ninja. Kurogane shoots him a look too complex for Fai to untangle, before jerking his head back down towards the crowd. Then he takes off, clearly expecting Fai to follow, which he does, slowly.

What had he gotten himself into.

\---

Damn show off wizard, damn him for stepping in where he doesn’t belong.

He’d seen Fai fight. Or rather, he’d seen Fai sidestepping attacks and making jokes and twisting around enemies, usually while teasing him with those infuriating nicknames. Maneuvering like an expert soldier, while usually not landing a single hit. The way he fought the demoness in Koryo, when they sparred on that tournament world, Fai flowed like water, every movement planned like a tactician. And yet he always _acted_ like a _coward._

To see him willingly pick up a weapon, to use chi so causally when Kurogane had trained his whole life to master it, utterly infuriated him. The wizard never ceased to confound him.

Especially because he was so damn impressed.

Manas was right to say he belonged in the Army, too. But without the ability to understand commands or orders, and with maybe only the barest knowledge about the Moon Castle anyway, that might put him in more danger than he realizes. Stupid show off.

The soldiers were barely accepting of Kurogane taking over today’s training, but at least he could speak. What would they do after being upstaged by Fai? He has to keep the wizard even closer. He manages to continue the training, beginning from scratch with basic breathing and visualization exercises to encourage chi focus and tuning, though he could tell not all of them were taking it seriously. This just isn’t the native way of fighting for the people here. Still, even without the use of chi, Kurogane couldn’t believe that neither Yasha nor Ashura have won this battle over the course of generations. How could it have remained a stalemate for so long? 

Kurogane manages to discreetly teach Fai the words for bow, string, arrow, target, and fire as he uses him for an example. He notes, with some more barely concealed irritation, that Fai’s form and stance are perfect. Damn him yet again. Was there anything the bastard wasn’t good at?

Fai went along with every little thing, watching Kurogane hawkishly, even staring at his lips as though he could divine the meaning of his words from shape alone. He did everything as Kurogane showed him, moving where he pointed, standing where he directed, shooting every target he set up.

When they finally begin wrapping up for a break, Koshi finds him restringing a bow that a careless welp had snapped with an overeager draw.

“So,” she begins with a smirk, crossing her arms and propping one foot on a tent pole. “Pretty sneaky.”

“Manas put me in charge of today’s training, I can’t imagine how that’s--”

“What, old Greymane? No, not about this. I mean about the sneaky way you got your lover to skip recruitment, too.”

Kurogane’s face flushes at the word _lover_ before he can even process the rest of the accusation. “He’s not my – why would you think – wait, I didn’t do _anything._ ”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t deny it, I’ve seen people try it before, but I gotta say, you’re ballsy about it. You join up under some strange circumstances, but I saw you fight. You deserve a place here. But then your demure little companion, who almost never speaks, who Manas says is a minstrel of some kind apparently, suddenly picks up a bow and attacks with the same kind of energy you just showed off? Maybe you’re both performers, able to pull off a double act so good. You could do a show for us!” Her words sting but her tone is jovial, wicked smirk betraying how much she loves the chance to tease her new superior officer. Kurogane wants to groan into his hands and barely resists the temptation.

“First of all,” he begins slowly. “I repeat: he is not my lover. Second, I am just as surprised by his stunt as you are. I had no idea he was interesting in joining the army.”

She tilts her head. “Really, you never talked about it?”

Kurogane opens his mouth, shuts it. “I told you he doesn’t talk much. Not even to me.”

Koshi pats him on the back sympathetically. “Believe me, I know it’s tough when your partner is mad at you. When my wife found out I joined with Yasha’s forces she didn’t speak to me for a week.”

Kurogane glowers at the bow that is steadfastly refusing to be restrung, and every jab from Koshi is robbing what fraying concentration he has. “Yes, well, is that all then?”

She takes a step back and frowns, lowering her voice conspiratorily. “No, not exactly. Just watch out for him, okay?”

That gets Kurogane’s attention, and her jerks up. “What does that mean?”

She holds out her hand defensively. “I don’t mean anything by it, calm down. Just… there’s lots of folk here who tried really hard to impress Manas at the games last month, and before. Who are real proud of their skills. And to suddenly see two strangers show up under odd circumstances, circumventing the festival and suddenly taking charge, it’s going to ruffle some feathers.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “I think he’s tougher than he looks, but some people might see him as a way to hurt you both. I’ll knock anyone’s heads who imply that, but I can see it in their eyes already. Watch our for yourselves, okay?”

She smiles once more, like the conversation never happened, and claps him on the back once more. “Anyway, break’s almost over. See you out there soon!”

Kurogane restrings the bow in record time before rushing off to grab Fai from wherever he ended up. He knows Fai is far from the vulnerable fop he likes to appear, but he’s at a severe disadvantage when he can’t understand anyone. He needs to keep him even closer.


	9. Contest of Wills

Training continues for the next week much the same. Kurogane and Fai head to the field, Kurogane leading the troops in practice brawls, offering guidance in using and channeling chi (none as quick as study as Syaoran, to his disappointment), and pairing off individuals for sparring. At first, he hesitates to pair Fai off against anyone, not sure if he can accurately give him instructions, if Fai would understand when to stop, and secretly, deep down, still worried over what Koshi said the other day. He justifies himself by telling the others that Fai doesn’t need training, that he is a soldier just like Kurogane, but of course the idiot wizard’s whole demeanor completely undermines that argument. After three days, Manas pulls Kurogane aside and quietly reminds him that his lover doesn’t get special treatment, completely ignoring his usual protestations.

“If anyone is still listening, he is _not my lover,_ ” he growls for the thousandth time. “And I have seen him in combat. He could run circles around any of these troops.”

Manas takes the barb in stride. “Be that as it may, people can still sense the disparity. If you keep setting him aside as something special, then it may sow agitation among the ranks. I trust you, Kurogane; I can sense your warrior’s truth. We fought alongside one another. But you are still unknown, and you have not earned the trust of your troops just yet. You need to be aware of how you present yourself.”

Kurogane grits his teeth. Working all his life for Princess Tomoyo, he never had to command troops. He worked as a ninja: stealthy, alone, unmatched. He ranked higher than any of Princess Tomoyo’s other agents, and could direct them at times, but all ninja reported directly to her. Being in a position of command – no, of _leadership –_ of needing to earn and maintain trust, was a little unusual. And Fai…

Manas is implying the same thing Koshi did. That the rank-and-file distrust Fai. That they might pose a threat. It rankles Kurogane’s nerves. “Understood,” is all he says, while silently promising that any soldier who threaten him or Fai will be eliminated.

Fai’s grasp on the language barely manages to solidify even the few concepts he already knows. Kurogane quickly runs out of ideas of how to explain more abstract concepts, even basic grammar and sentence construction. Fai learns a little bit through context, but his word order, his pronunciation, his minimal vocabulary reveal his proficiency as being less than a child’s. Still, he trusts Fai, and he knows Manas is right. Fai is always quick to figure out what Kurogane asks of him. When he calls Fai’s name and pairs him off against another archer, Feros, he merely smiles and nods.

He sets up the two in a small obstacle course of tall sparring dummies, stacked barrels, and half-pitched canvas tents that had originally been set up for mending. (Why they needed tents when they teleported to the battlefield mystified him, but they did use them frequently on the castle lawn and presumably elsewhere.) Instead of a traditional ring for melee fighters, he had been setting up ranged fighters here to have a chance to use cover and angles to their best advantage. Feros had already shown himself a skilled marksman, as had Fai. He thinks the match-up very fair, and instructs the others in his current group to observe.

Fai navigates the terrain with ease, as he had expected, but Feros knows the game as well, and he has something to prove. They fire a few warning shots with their blunt, untipped arrows, but neither manage to land a hit on the other for a full minute, an age in terms of combat time. The long-limbed wizard finds himself at a slight disadvantage, even, unable to keep himself in cover and gain any high ground on the even field. Small, compact Feros might not have as much draw strength as Fai, but he flits between cover easily, staying low, a small target. One of his arrows thunks hard against the wood where Fai had just been standing, his erstwhile opponent barely managing to avoid the hit. Kurogane wonders if Fai is planning to lose on purpose. Maybe he senses the growing tension between him and the others and is playing it easy. He never once considers that may might lose of skill. But the wizard’s pride would never allow him to throw a match.

After two more grueling minutes, Fai snakes his away across the field, using his dexterity and speed to move himself closer and closer to Feros. Kurogane is confused at first – drawing closer is only advantageous for Feros’s short draw; Fai has the range with his long bow bow. Closing ranks just means his opponent needs less force behind his arrow. But he realizes what Fai is doing only moments before it happens.

Fai tracks his opponent until he is cornered behind a pile of sandbags, pushing him hard and fast to where he’s unable to properly knock his arrow and fire a single shot. Then Fai leaps unexpectedly into his cover, catches him by the neck by hooking the wood of his bow over his head, and pointing the blunt end of the arrow into his face, grinning pleasantly all the while. Even from the hillside, observing, Kurogane can see Feros quivering. His soldiers erupt into roars, mostly impressed, some certainly less positive.

“Did you _see_ that?!”

“By the gods, what a technique!”

“It shouldn’t count; he barely fired a shot.”

“That’s what’s so impressive! The best warriors shouldn’t need to draw their weapon if they don’t need to.”

Kurogane settles them down, calling out to the two below. “Feros! Fai! Good work. Get back up here.”

Fai releases Feros and smirks up at him, following only after Feros starts to move. Kurogane notes how Fai probably didn’t recognize the command and resolves to try to use more words Fai already knows. Feros is greeted warmly by his fellows, claps on the back and encouraging words, while Fai stands apart, bow slung over his shoulder. Kurogane can’t offer the same even if he wanted to; how can he teach words of praise? How can he explain a concept of good? Ugh, thinking like this makes his head hurt.

“Fai,” Kurogane orders, and nods over to the weapons tent. Fai meets his eyes with an unreadable expression, then walks away to, hopefully, put his bow back and return to their room, as they had done the last few days. He catches a few of Feros’s friends glaring at his back, and he memorizes their faces.

“Hey!” He snaps, and everyone jerks back to attention. “We got one more drill to run before we break!”

“What about him?” One grumble reaches his ears from the crowd.

“What about who?” Kurogane growls, scanning the assemblage for who spoke.

“You never make him run laps or do final drills.” The complainer is a woman, standing awfully close to Feros, her hand protectively on his elbow. “Why not, _Commander?_ ”

The sarcasm bleeds from her voice, and Kurogane bites back a glower. He tries to remember Manas’s words about unity and leadership, but his thoughts are full of Fai and his safety. “Maybe if someone managed to beat him, I’d make him run fundamentals, too, but given he’s the only one who can use his chi, I’d say he’s earned the right to skip drills.”

There’s far too many looks of discontent among the soldiers, and Kurogane’s chest burns with fury. Why can’t they just do what he says and shut up? “Laps!” he barks instead. “Now!”

\---

Fai doesn’t quite see the point of the training. He picked up a bow because he wanted to make sure he could protect Kurogane, and archery was the one martial skill he hadn’t seen from the ninja. He hadn’t considered at the moment he grabbed the weapon the logistics and formalities involved in joining the soldiers. He only knew he needed to be a warrior in his own right, not just a consort. Still, Kurogane knew Fai could hold his own. They had fought together, and even sparred together on occasion. Fai had a long history of fighting monsters for Ceres, not that Kurogane would ever know that.

And he hadn’t made him participate for the last few days, either. What was different about today? Did he want to make sure he knew how to use a bow? He’d never used one in front of Kurogane, after all. Although, he hadn’t exactly proven his use of it today, if that’s the case.

And he dismissed him before the others. Was he displeased? Hard to say. The others were certainly glaring at him, but they hardly mattered. Whenever they leave this world, they would cease to have any impact in their lives. Kurogane is the one he needed…

Needed what, to keep appeased? To keep an eye on? He rubbed a hand through his hair as he headed back to the room. A few people whispered as he walked by, but he ignored them. Probably more rumors. He didn’t mind them, but without Kurogane around to blush and fuss, it’s less interesting to engage.

He passes through a small crowd, not recognizing any of the faces, and one of them grabs his shoulder and slams him into a wall.

Faces, bodies, people Fai hadn’t bothered to recount, hadn’t cared to learn more than their outlines in passing, all staring at him with a singular expression of hatred.


	10. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a tad short, I just didn't want to linger on last chapter's final scene too long!

“あなたはあなたが特別だと思いますか?”

Fai just stares, too many words, too fast, too sudden. He scans the expressions of the group: sneers and glowers. But he doesn’t remember slighting any of them, just seeing them around the training grounds. He tenses, ready to fight back, when more hands and knees and arms pin him firmly in place, and his heart starts racing. Instinctively, he reaches for his magic and panics again when he finds nothing answering his call.

“まだ何も言うことはありませんか?” His tone is mocking, and he jostles him hard, rattling his thoughts around in his head. Fai tries to kick out but someone strikes his knees and pain bursts in his ligaments, making him hiss. A cold, familiar calm settles over his bones. The promise of violence ignites in his bones. Here, he doesn’t need his words.

They jeer and  shake him some more, and Fai meets them with calm indifference. They cannot touch him. They cannot harm him. They are inconsequential blips in his long life, and he  can destroy them without much effort .  The knowledge sinks into his blood, fills him, and even without magic, he knows. There are only four of them, unarmed, unsuspecting. Fai has been around worse, seen worse.

One man grabs him by the hair and yanks  _hard,_ jerking his head sharply to the side. His scalp flares with the sting but he doesn’t flinch, making eye contact with his attacker. The man might have asked him a question. Even if Fai could have understood it, he  would not  have respond ed . Another man to his right shouts something, enraged at Fai’s  silence , and telegraphs his attack so loudly he could have sensed it with his eyes closed.  He twists and yanks one hand free of its ensnaring group, a flash of movement too fast for these idiots to catch.  Catching the clumsy fist in his hand, Fai wrenches his wrist sharply to the side to a satisfying  _snap!_

The man howls and clutches his injured arm to his chest, babbling as tears well in his eyes. Fai’s upper lip curls in disgust. These are Yasha’s soldiers? The ones Kurogane is now aligned with? No wonder he spoke so harshly to the gathered warriors, if this is an approximation of their skill. The wrist isn’t even broken; Fai knows it would likely be too much of an inconvenience to do permanent damage.

The one with his fist in Fai’s hair slams his head against the wall, and Fai just manages to clench his jaw closed to avoid biting his own tongue. Well,  _this_ certainly needs to stop. He grabs the back of the man’s hand and presses it against his own skull, surprising the attacker. It throws him off guard enough that Fai  manages to  drop in elbow into the man’s bicep, aiming the pointed bone between two muscle groups, causing his arm to spasm and fall limp. Fai’ s fingers on the tangling hand loosen the grip on his hair and he pulls it off with minimal scalp damage, then he  twists it, and uses his leverage to fling the man to the floor, where he lands with a satisfying  _whump._

There’s two more left, but they glance at each other in fear. The man on the ground groans something,  _snarls_ his words, and the fear is replaced by determination. Fai relaxes back into a fighting stance, one that looks like he isn’t ready to fight at all,  angling his shoulders towards the nearest one on their feet .

A distinct, gravelly voice hollers down the hall, making everyone but Fai jump in shock.  _Kurogane._

Fai has never seen him look so  _livid,_ not even when the witch demanded his sword as payment to travel between worlds. Crimson eyes almost glowing with an inner fire, and he barks out four short words – presumably their names – and storms up to the group with murder in his eyes. Fai relaxes somewhat, but keeps an eye out behind them. The y may not be alone, after all.

Kurogane hauls to his feet  the man Fai threw on the ground, barking short, clipped orders at him,  handling them roughly  as he shoves  each one of  them down the hall where he came from.  The ninja stands close to Fai, watching until the men are all gone, then Kurogane grabs  the back of his collar , half dragging him the rest of the way back to their rooms.

Why is Kurogane upset? Did he think he picked a fight? He should know him better by now… except. He doesn’t actually know him at all, does he? That’s kind of the point.

Back in their room, door sliding shut sharply behind them, Kurogane immediately scans over Fai’s face, eyes searching for something. Fai gasps when Kurogane’s fingers gently touch his cheek, and Kurogane’s eyebrows pinch in concern at the noise. 

“Kuro-gentle, what are you doing…?”

Kurogane fusses at him, too flustered by whatever he’s doing to use words Fai understands. His hands flutter down his shoulders, arms, stomach, and Fai flinches again and pushes him away. The furrow between his brow deepens, and he reaches out once more, but Fai…

“No!” He snaps in Kurogane’s language, and the ninja freezes. Fai can feel the heat on his face, flushed and embarrassed. Now, and the other night, when he insisted on dressing Fai… he touches him so casually, sometimes, like it’s nothing. But touching other people reminds him of the flesh under his hands, decaying bodies piling up, climbing an ever-growing mound of corpses trying to get to his brother, and he never wanted to touch anyone else ever again. And yet, Kurogane’s skin feels so nice against his that it sets his mind on fire.

“Fai,” Kurogane says firmly. “No 痛み?”

I tami, that was new. Fai frowns and shrugs. Kurogane  groans with irritation, then his eyes spark with revelation.  _Itami,_ he  says  again . Then slaps himself on the wrist, the crack resounding in the small room. Fai starts. Kurogane points to the red glowing  welt forming on his skin and repeats the word. Does it mean pain? Injury?  Slap?  Hurt? Regardless, he thinks he gets the gist of what Kurogane is asking. 

“Fai, no _itami_ ,” he assures. 

The  worried look eases from Kurogane’s face. He looks like he has more he wants to say, but stops himself, chewing the inside of his lip. Fai can see the words burning behind his eyes, but knows they cannot reach him. His fingers long to touch his face, brush the rest of his concern  from his face. But his hands weren’t meant for comfort. He learned long ago, his hands were never meant to heal. 


End file.
